Fate, Destiny, and Fatigue
by Boom-Rhapsody
Summary: You call yourself cursed, dear boy? Why, many would best label you pitiable but you are not subject to such scrutiny, now are you? Being what you are, not who you are, is more important to the people who have placed you on the throne of martyrdom. Shall y
1. Escape from Hell's Den

A/N: I decided to take a crack at a Harry Potter Slash fic. It's going to be angsty and probably dark. Oh, to hell of course it's going to be angsty and dark. If you read please please please review it. Do you know what risk I'm taking with this? Holy Hannah have you tried living in a _very_ **Christian** house? And mind my parents and I share the same computer so... anyway; review this I want to know if it's a good one and if I should keep going. NOTE I'M RISKING MY EXISTENCE WRITING THIS FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT  
  
Pairing- Harry/Draco  
  
P.S. I also have a het-themed story (ahem, no slash pairing, sorry), "the Dark Torch of Anglithae", if you're interested in reading that instead of this.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, you all know that.  
  
**(1)......**  
  
No one would ask this upon anyone, no one in their right mind. And yet here he was, lying all alone on the floor, to weak and beaten to rise to the bed. It hurt to no bounds, black and blue everywhere. The pain seemed to ignite his blood in a furious heat, though he knew that his own emotion had produced such feeling. His mind ticked almost monotonously, not coming to a standstill as it raced around with thoughts. Thoughts he wished would die... though death would be a blessing at the point, to him, at least.  
  
And not another soul had bothered to see about his well being. Not a one he knew and considered with love had even sent him word of them, a note stating they remembered his existence. Over a month thrown to the past, and he was alone, now more so than ever. His loyal companion, though through the form of a bird, had been slaughtered callously and left at his feet by malicious teens of her gender and age, counterparts of his cousin's manipulation. He had buried his companion away from the hellish home, in a field where his loyal friend might lie in familiar habitat. And then, again, he was left alone with none but his own self, his own mind, and thoughts...  
  
And yet, memory bared no remorse at redeeming him of hellish nightmares turned into sadistic fantasies, one being his raping by his cousin, a heinous act committed by the one he was forced to call blood through his mother, though she was held to no blame for his situation. It came once, a brutal taking of blood and seed, and many times after that. Each occurrence left him beaten and bloody and torn, worse than the one before.  
  
And beatings so barbaric that Child Services would shoot the culprit haunted his already shattered psyche. The bruises still a menacing reminder of what was, what is, and what is to come. It sickened him to see the pallid blues, blacks, purples, greys and greens, a collage along his flesh of pain and suffering. But no, even when he refused to cry or scream, the beatings would not end. No, they dragged on, for hours on end it seemed, though in reality (a land at times forgotten), it lasted a few mere minutes. Yet the sheer volume of pain was enough to last a lifetime of souls uncounted and untold.  
  
He had tried, several times before, to end his existence. But none had been successful enough or given time to take affect, he would be dragged back to the realm of the living. Yes, so close, deep in the abyss that led to the End, then unceremoniously stopped, and brought back to the place he dreaded most. Yes, he had tried, seven times, and yes, seven times he had failed.  
  
His blood ran cold at the thought, though it kept up the steady flow. If only it could run dry, he had often thought, just if his heart would stop beating...  
  
_There in a body, where in which lies a poor, depressed and wretched soul..._  
  
The words from no one came into his head, the voice implacable and it concerned him none to whom the owner of it actually was. But it echoed, continuing on...  
  
_Where upon the moon's fading light, a redeemed essence resigns to Fate, cursed over with Destiny's whip lashes and Fatigue's eager dealings..._  
  
Etching into his memory, boring into his soul like fired markings... echoing whispering never ending the haunting they caused, the truth that made him fear the words...  
  
_And by the sun's assent to the sky, may be the like of which no one dares know, might that soul come, resurrect in a world of disdainful wishes and weary glances..._  
  
It sounded like a prophecy, a declaration of the future, a changing message meant to instill knowledge of the Unknown...  
  
_And along lost causes, fear endowed power, long forgotten uses of the gifts bestowed to the magic folk of old..._  
  
Pain coursed through his body, the anger receded to leave room for the pain to flow. His blood boiled more, worse than before, and his skin crawled as his bones began to rearrange, twist and contort to fit a new form. He wanted to scream, he tired, but no sound passed through his blood-stained lips. Instead, he arched his back, joints cramping as the voice echoed on...  
  
_Bestowed to you, by blood right and sheer will of doom, gifts sought after, often mourned..._  
  
It was louder, booming in his head. His mouth was set ablaze with pain, his body stretching several painful inches, hair spilling down his neck and slowly to his shoulders, fingers cramping as they clawed out at air, in an effort to latch onto something to try to ease the pain of burning joints...  
  
_Night is thy chosen time, on the day of birth..._  
  
His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he swung his fist out to grip the bed. He arched his back as his spine seemed to jump from his body...  
  
_Weary soul, thyne path is of waiting, take note ye are not the first to travel it alone. Revel in this wondrous gift, ye who is the rebirth of a House..._  
  
And it receded, the pain left in slow, shallow waves...  
  
_Chosen were ye to recreate a withering race...  
_  
A shaky, thankful sigh escaped parted lips as his head finally rested down on the floor...  
  
_Arise, arise... thy genesis awaits..._  
  
And Harry opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. It was still night, he could tell by the grey glow from the moon, but everything was clear. Clear... he wasn't wearing his glasses. He was on his back, on the floor spread-eagled and confused, if not dazed. He sat up, groaning as he rubbed the back of his head and neck. Wait, his hair had never been this long before - not ever... And, nothing was broken, not a single ache or pain...  
  
Harry jumped up, dizzied by the quickness of the sudden move. His mind rushed for a split second before he gathered his bearings. Then, his head turned to stare at the mirror. His skin was clear of bruises and scars, his muscle tone was now lean and attractive, and he was a good three inches taller, an easy six foot in height. His raven hair now fell to his shoulders in unkempt waves, though not harassing his head like before. His complexion was fairer, but still tan. He held up a hand and stared at the long, lean and slender fingers, what could be called artist hands because of the dexterity-look.  
  
Harry looked down. The baggy pants he was currently wearing were almost not long enough to cover his feet. Another sign of the change. He was thankful his outward appearance had only softened and become toned to perfection; he was an Adonis by any other name.  
  
Harry still felt his inner pain, and it soon returned to him. Even this new- found beauty, inside was still beaten, mangled, and torn.  
  
Harry sat on the bed, but upon laying his head down he sat up again. An awful, acrid smell permeated from the mattress, the smell of his cousin's semen. How he could smell that he did not know, nor did he care, only that he was now sickened dramatically. Harry made to rise, but then, he caught the sounds of floorboards creaking under foot, a foot weighed down by muscle.  
  
Harry's soul caved in at the sound of the doorknob turning. Yes, it was his birthday, he as sixteen. The Divine Entities had done something to him, something he feared would affect him greatly somehow. He wanted to just blow away, or fade into the shadows, but no, so was not to happen as the door opened.  
  
Dudley Dursley, Harry's seventeen-year-old cousin (held back, you know. Failed sixth grade, I believe), entered. He had changed over the year, having gained muscles in exchange for the fat. But he was still the ever- presence of fear and pain for Harry, a constant source of horrid hell.  
  
"Happy birthday, cousin," Dudley whispered as he closed the door. He locked it, and moved to the bed.  
  
Before Harry knew it, Dudley was on him. The larger boy pinned Harry as he always had, and brutally attacked Harry's mouth, quickly forcing entry and ravishing his mouth. Harry squirmed, the feeling of helplessness returning like a wave of regret over him. But he fought against the larger boy still, freezing only when he felt something long, and hard, against his leg. Harry looked down, and grimaced. Draco smiled, letting out a husky breath as he pulled away.  
  
"Keep at it," he whispered into Harry's ear; "It only makes you even more beautiful. I don't know what awful thing you did, but damn it paid off," and he ripped Harry's pants away, then Harry's shirt. Harry cringed as Dudley ran a course hand down his body, and then Harry did something he never thought he could do.  
  
He threw Dudley from him, reversing their positions. He felt a need for something, but it was not lust, oh no, it was a hunger... nostalgia for a food he could not acquire through fodder... it could only be conceived from...  
  
Harry stared at Dudley's neck; "Not again," he whispered, glancing up at Dudley; "I won't let you again," he voice was musical and deep, melodic in a since.  
  
Dudley was transfixed by Harry's eyes. The green irises swirled, the emerald tainted by silver and flecks of gold. They burned with power, intensified by a passionate emotion called hate, despise, malice. Suddenly, Dudley came to his senses, and felt Harry licking a spot on his neck. Dudley couldn't help but moan.  
  
"You like that?" Harry asked, barely a whisper; "You'll love this..."  
  
Harry ran his tongue over his enhanced canines, the sharp tips coarse against his tissue. Baring them, Harry drove his fangs into Dudley's fleshy neck. Dudley let out an inaudible scream, and Harry fed. He fed on the crimson life, the blood of another. It filled him, gave him a contented feeling in his soul. It was a nourishment beyond any other.  
  
Minutes later, Harry pulled away. He licked his fangs and mouth clean, savoring the last taste. Then, it dawned on him at what he had just done. He had gone on instinct, hadn't thought rationally until the act was done, and he was fed. Fed... he had drunk Dudley's blood. Harry sat there, atop his large cousin, staring at the mark he had left. Now, it looked like a bite mark, but something told him that, in the morning, it would resemble nothing more than simple insect bites.  
  
Harry got up, standing beside the bed. He quickly put his pants back on all the way, securing them with a belt, and then rushed over, unlocked and opened the door. He then ran back, and pulled Dudley up. Harry froze, realizing his strength, the picked Dudley up before walking out of the room and carrying the now unconscious boy into his own room and setting him down on the double bed. Harry then rushed back into his room, and closed the door. He rushed over to the loose floor board, pried it open, and retrieved one of his DADA books. He quickly got back on the bed, ignoring the smell, and flipped to the section on VAMPIRES. It read...  
  
'Vampires- considered as dark creatures, though they take a human form- definition; one which needs to consume blood to live. Vampires are able to travel during the day, but the sun weakens their powers some what. Vampires are capable of telepathy and wandless magic, have heightened senses, and are considered immortal, though most do not survive long enough. Vampires are often thought of as fallen angels, partly for their astounding beauty and also for the pair of black wings they possess. The wings in question blend perfectly with the Vampires skin when folded against its back. Vampires are able to talk to Shadowed Animals (I.E., crows, ravens, wolves, etc.). Vampires have the ability of mind control, though the affects where off after a time (a Vampire can only control a human for an hour). Rosary beads, holy water, and the like do not affect a Vampire...'  
  
Harry snorted as he read, then felt his fangs. They were there. He had become more beautiful, as well. Reaching back, he felt the wings. /I've got to get out of here/ he thought, closing the book and rising. Harry quickly put his book aside, and opened his trunk. Having cast a bottomless pit charm upon it a year prior, he unceremoniously threw his dark clothing and supplies into it. Minutes later, Harry was ready to leave. He then threw on a black tank, and stared at his trunk. /Shrink/ he thought, and held his hand out over the trunk. In a matter of moments, the trunk vibrated before shrinking down to the size of a matchbox. Harry picked it up, and put it into his pocket. He then went over, and put on his socks and shoes. Harry thought about leaving a note, and though he didn't feel the need, in case an Order member stopped by.../No one cares, what's the point?/ Harry thought as he wrote out a quick letter and left it lying on his bed.  
  
Trunk in his pocket, Harry opened his window and climbed out onto the roof. He felt the breeze rustle his long hair around his face, and Harry sighed. He basked in the moonlight, extending his arms. /Come on/ he thought, and he felt his wings unfold and spread wide, like an arch or black, glorious feathers around him. Harry brought the left one around to the front, the appendage wrapping around his side, and felt a feather. Yes, they were real. Harry spread his wings again, thinking how best to leave the hell he was forced to call home. /No, no longer/ Harry thought, kicking off the roof and souring into the sky.  
  
Harry was amazed by how quickly he left Surrey behind him, the small community dwindling into the past as he sped away. Harry clearly saw the land below, deciding to best follow a road until he got to London. He stayed well above the clouds, often feeling as though he were flying just beside the moon. It was nearly full, two more days and it would be the Night of the Wolf, as Harry secretly referred it to.  
  
Nearly thirty minutes later, Harry found London, and he landed in an alley. Looking around, he quickly went out onto the sidewalk, taking it to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry pulled out his trunk before he entered, making it back to its original size. He found it incredibly light, but thought better to play the week gangly boy he had been for so long. Setting it down before taking the side handles, he then pushed the door open and entered the pub/inn.  
  
---  
  
Tom looked up from his work, to see a young man make his way in, dragging a large trunk with him. Tom squinted, recognizing the unruly raven hair at a first glance. But its length caught him off-guard, and only when the young man lifted his head and he saw the piercing emerald eyes, with no glasses to shield them, did he realize that the young man was in fact Harry Potter.  
  
"M-Mister Potter, sir!" Tom said, coming around the bar and moving over to Harry; "Ha-how are you? A bit late—or rather early, I should say, for you to be out and about!"  
  
Harry nodded; "I uh, had to get away," he said uneasily; "Could I have a room, please? I might be staying here for a while."  
  
"Of course, Mister Potter," Tom said, and with a flick of his wand, Harry's trunk was transported. Tom then produced a key from his apron pocket; "Number eleven, as always, Mister Potter," tome found it hard to lift his eyes from Harry, and he was straight as they came...  
  
"Er, thank you," Harry said, suppressing a shudder from the hand-to-hand contact. Trauma from rape and brutality had still left a mark upon his psyche.  
  
Tom eyed Harry worriedly, but took Harry's actions as just adrenaline fatigue. He nodded; "Well, you're luggage is up by now," he said, "Good eve' to yeh, Mister Potter."  
  
Harry nodded, and went up the stairs at a swift jog. Tom watched him go, slightly taken aback by the teen's quickness. But the aging man shrugged it off and went back to his duties before retiring for the night.  
  
---  
  
Harry entered the room, and as if by instinct the mirror chimed; "Oh, welcome back, dear. Ooh, you do look dashing, more handsome than previous!"  
  
Harry looked at the mirror, seeing his reflection. He shook his head, and saw his trunk by the familiar bed. Harry went over to the window, staring down at the street. He saw a lightened blue and shades of yellow-pink on the horizon, it was early. Yawning, Harry turned and fell onto the bed, not bothering onto change out of his clothing as he closed his eyes and hugged a feathery pillow. Soon, sleep overtook his weary mind and soul, whisking him away to slumber.  
  
_**---That night, in Scotland bythe castle Ruins...**_  
  
the room was damp and cold, comatose images of the dead and dying aligned along the walls in patterns of morose fatigue. It was a dismal arena of a bloodbath ritual, where they came to come. Black robes and cloaks amiably swishing to stillness were the only sounds as a circle was formed around an opaque blue orb situated upon a stand, a silvery light from the moon coming through an opening in the ceiling, which was easily fifty feet over the highest head. Many whispered quietly, oblivious that they were being watched. Those silent realized this though, and stood firm and still, attentive and waiting. Soon, their leader swooped down, standing beside the orb and its stand.  
  
"My brothers and sister," he said, "The Chosen have created another for our masses... He is just now used to his new abilities, his calling. He is Harry Potter, the one the wizards have chosen to save them."  
  
A boy pulled the hood from his head, and this was a sign that the others could, as well. His hair was a light blonde, shining from the moonlight. He stepped into it fully, his voice clear and musical, like all the others; "Brother," he said, "Are you positive?"  
  
The leader nodded, removing his hood. His face was elegantly long, eyes, nose, and mouth all placed in the right places to give him a royal look. His dark eyes glittered with enthusiasm, and he replied; "Yes, Brother Draco, it is the Harry Potter. A darker Harry Potter, but not someone we cannot encourage to lighten... who will go and greet him?"  
  
"I will," the blonde, said; "After all, this could be a good thing, having him with us."  
  
"It will change things for the wizarding community, you know," a female voice piped from the circle.  
  
"As it will for us," the leader said; "Who honestly thought that bloodlines ran so long...?"  
  
"What?" several asked quietly, Draco being the loudest.  
  
The leader chuckled; "Brother Harry's grandfather was one of our own, on Lily's side... and once our own, always our own."  
  
The blonde remembered the stories The Leader often told the Youngers, as all of the young to the world were called. And not the world outside the dank chamber, nay, but the world of the Vampires. Lily's father, _what was his name?,_ Edgar or something, he couldn't remember, had indeed been one of the them. He had become an elder even, but was killed by the Ministry. It was covered up by a potion gone awry. He wondered if Harry even had the faintest idea. But further thoughts were halted by the leader's following statement.  
  
"Brother, you will find and console our newest. I am aware of your childish 'house' rivalry, but something tells me it will no longer have a part. Now, it is late," he sad to the group; "We all know who it is we must take to, watch, stand by. The night wanes, the lights dwindle. This old chamber fades, as our facades are placed along the masks we must wear. Peace to you."  
  
And with that, the meeting ended. Everyone left, by Disapparating or simply walking. The chamber faded into darkness, and the moonlight faded. The orb alone glowed, changing from a soft, majestic blue, then it too, was extinguished by unknown entities.  
  
_---End chapter one---_  
  
**A/N:** I know, no slash yet. Well I can't jump right into it yet, now can I? And I'm not sure if I'm even going to continue this, it all depends on reviews! Thanks if you do review, I'll love ya for it! Oh, and silence isn't golden in this aspect. **REMEMBER, I AM RISKING A LOT ON THIS** (thought I'm not trying to guilt trip you into anything....) **JUST REVIEW**


	2. In Company With Snakes

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Wow, five reviews in only one day, that's amazing to me. And look, before I posted this up, I got even more!  
  
Thanks PsychoticDeath for the support. Your review was motivating and reassuring! Oh, and thank you for putting me on your favorite's lists, this chapter's for you!  
  
Sadiew, thank you as well! (same reasons as above) oh, and the answer to your question will be answered, just keep reading!  
  
Oh you're too kind, sylver, but please, worshipping fics is just not healthy.  
  
Oracale, thanks for the signed review!  
  
Eliza, thanks for the advice! I'll tone it down!  
  
Darkgal, Sheree, everybody, I'll update as much as I can!  
  
**NOTES:** /---/ thoughts  
  
_Disclaimer:_ I don't own anything, you all know that. But if you do, could you share? Pretty please wit sprinkles on top? Fine, be that way. I'll just write my fic and twiddle my thumbs as I wait for reviews.  
  
**(2)......**  
  
The sun came in through the window, the curtains drawn back earlier for the light's access. It was nearly noon now, and the street below, Diagon Alley, was alive with activity. People gossiped and talked and laughed, some discussing _the Daily Prophet_. It was still brimming with information on Death Eater Attacks, and of course on the trails of the five caught in the Department of Mysteries **(**_A/N: please refer to 5th book for more info_**)**. But, since nearly all of the dementors had left Azkaban, it was futile to keep them there, they would escape.  
  
Harry groaned, feeling the pain in his thighs and buttocks and his joints. Though it was not as evident as usual, it was there. Harry sat up, rubbing his back gingerly as he rose. He yawned, and looked at his reflection. Satisfied that he was still the same physically, Harry went to take a shower. He then went to get dressed, opening his trunk and laying his clothing out. Over the few weeks, Harry had managed to sneak out, convert his wizarding money into Muggle pounds, and had completely revamped his wardrobe. Now, he put on a pair of dark blue jeans, kept them to his almost femininely small waste with a black belt, then put on a black tank.  
  
He then put on a silver dragon on a chain, the dragon having real ruby eyes. It had been a gift from Dumbledore, but Harry had removed the shielding charm. He welcomed death, it would be a blessing to be caught in the crossfire or fall off a high place.  
  
Harry then put on random black bracelets, and inserted his ear piercing. He had gotten it a few days after coming home, which had earned him a beating. But Harry didn't care. Harry then took out a small green cord, and pulled his hair back with it. He put it into a pony tail, but his bangs and the hair along them still framed his face. /Oh well/ he thought /At least I can do something with it now/. Sighing, Harry then got his money bag, stuffed it into his pocket, took his black shoulder bag, then headed from his room, the door opening and closing magically for him. Harry turned and watched the door, then shrugged it off and walked down the stairs.  
  
The pub below was filled with the lunch crowd, but no one paid Harry any mind. He was almost unrecognizable because of his changes, and Harry was glad for it. He didn't want attention, and he was glad to walk out onto the street and not get held back.  
  
But a few witches outside of Flourish and Blotts stopped they chatter as Harry walked by. He felt their gazes and could hear what they were saying, though faintly.  
  
"That c_an't_ be him!"  
  
"Well, he _did_ run from home, they say. I work for the Ministry in the Department of Wizard Services. He's listed under our watch, you know..."  
  
"Still, what might have happened to the poor dear if _that_ was him?"  
  
"Who knows, we were only told to keep an eye on his wear-abouts. Those who tracked him through and through wouldn't say a word."  
  
"Go figure," Harry muttered darkly as he entered Gringotts Bank.  
  
The commotion from the goblins and wizards stopped when Harry entered the front room. It always seemed to slow whenever someone new came in, and soon the activity picked up again, and Harry sighed. No one bothered him as he walked up to the front desk, but froze midway when he saw a tall boy with fiery red hair. As Harry continued and walked up to the desk, the redhead turned around. It was Fred, or maybe George, well one of the twins.  
  
"Excuse me," Harry said, stepping around the twin.  
  
The Weasley eyed him, then gasped in shock; "_Harry_?" he asked; "Blimey, mate, have you changed!" yep, it was Fred, the truthful extrovert of the two.  
  
Harry just nodded and turned to the desk, but Fred turned him around; "Look at you!" he exclaimed, but was taken aback when Harry jerked his arm away. Harry glared at him, but a small voice in his head told him he doesn't know, he doesn't know... at this, Harry's gaze softened  
  
"Harry?" Fred asked worriedly; "What's wrong with you, mate? Look like you've just seen the living dead or something. Oh, sorry," he said almost immediately after; "Didn't mean anything."  
  
"I uh, just had a bad holiday," Harry said, "Look, I'm pretty busy um, Fred."  
  
"Oh yeah, us too," Fred said, "Well, George and I, with the shop, you know," he suddenly began to see the changes in Harry, one being he seemed darker; "Well I... I've got to go. Err, nice to see you, Harry."  
  
Harry nodded as the twin hurried off, and sighed. He turned and faced the goblin, who was already ushering two guards for him. Harry sighed as two goblins with two-headed bulldogs approached, the dogs themselves sniffing at Harry's feet before whining in turn. Harry inwardly sighed, and went to his vault. He collected more money, and the hurriedly left the bank.  
  
Harry went back to Flourish and Blotts. It was packed with a few students of Hogwarts eager to get their shopping completed early, and he recognized some, though they didn't notice him. To them, he was just another kid shopping for books. Harry quickly went up to the second floor, and randomly walked down an aisle. Harry was going through some books, most of which were dark themed and fairly long, when he heard an all-too familiar voice not so far down in the aisles. Harry thanked his keen senses as he listened to the seemingly melodic voice of Draco Malfoy.  
  
"...You know, Blaise," Draco was saying; "It's too confusing..."  
  
"Whatever, Draco," Blaise replied; "Point is, you know you've got to tell him soon..."  
  
Him? Harry thought. He peered around the outer walkway, and saw Blaise and Draco leaning against the railing as they watched people below. Occasionally, they would duck back, then return to their former positions.  
  
Harry stared at Draco. His hair was un-gelled, and hung around his face elegantly. He had a slight tan, and his eyes were now more blue than silvery-grey. He was wearing a nice white dress shirt and fitting black pants, along with boots. He was a little thin, but Harry wagered it was depression from losing his father. Still, he seemed different, and Harry found himself gazing at him in a way he never thought. Blinking and shaking his head, Harry continued to listen.  
  
"But how?" Draco asked; "I can't believe I volunteered at all... well, I can, but," he shook his head; "It's too confusing..."  
  
"What's so wrong about it?" Blaise said; "We know about those reports from the Ministry thanks to Pansy and your mother. The Ministry's afraid he's gone dark...!"  
  
"We know he's gone dark," Draco said; "The Council can tell..."  
  
"You vampires and your bloody ways..."  
  
"SHH! Not so loud!" Draco hissed; "That's between us, okay? No one else knows, Blaise, not even my own mother!"  
  
"Really?" Blaise asked quirkily; "Hmm, I didn't know that..."  
  
"Stop acting like this is some bloody joke, you git!" Draco hissed.  
  
Harry set the book down, got his bag, and walked over to them. His feet were silent as air as he walked, and only when he stopped did Draco turn.  
  
"Who are you...?" he drawled, looking Harry up and down.  
  
"Who's who?" Blaise asked, looking at Harry as well; "Hello," he said uneasily.  
  
Harry smirked when Draco was struck with the staff of realization; "Ha — Harry?" he asked, eyeing Harry critically; "I mean — Potter? What the hell happened to you?"  
  
"Bad holiday, Malfoy, can't you tell?" Harry retorted; "So, who's this mysterious guy you were talking about?"  
  
"Why would you care?" Draco asked as both Slytherins stiffened.  
  
Harry shrugged; "Dunno," he said apathetically; "Don't really care about anything anymore. I'm actually just curious."  
  
/Something's wrong with this picture/ Draco thought, /besides the fact that I know about him/ "Well, it's you, actually," Draco replied with his usual drawl; "Care to join us for a quick chat, or do lions refuse to be around snakes?"  
  
"Screw house rivalries," Harry said, seething for a moment; "We're just vampires here. Besides, I don't care about the damn snake and lion bull."  
  
"Oh, must have been a very bad summer," Blaise commented under his breath, smoothing out his shirt; "Well, I'm just a wizard, but I know. So, how about we discuss this in the Cauldron, eh? I've got a meeting to attend, you know."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes; "Then go," he said, "If it's so important."  
  
Harry was sensing that the two were a couple, honestly he was, but when Blaise shrugged and said; "Okay, I've got to tell Pansy I'll meet her at the wardrobe place anyway. See you two," he said, "Oh, and no killing, okay? Can't have that plastered all over the Prophet, can we?"  
  
Draco shot him a glare that would kill if it could, and Blaise laughed uneasily; "Oh, I get it. Cheerio, then!" and with that, he bounded down the staircase and out the door.  
  
/Mental, that one/ Harry thought.  
  
But, for the first time to his memory, Harry laughed an almost pure laugh. Draco eyed him, noting the coldness and depression in it; "What happened?" he asked again, drawl lost for worry.  
  
Harry grew silent, and shifted from foot to foot; "Nothing," he said finally, looking at Draco; "What did you want to tell me about, Malfoy?"  
  
"Well, we can't talk here," Draco said, peering over the edge; "Come on, we're going."  
  
As Draco headed for the staircase, Harry turned and eyed him; "I'm not your bitch," he said curtly.  
  
Draco chuckled; "Oh, so sorry," he said, smirking at Harry; "Would you please accompany me for our rendezvous? It's an urgent get together, you see, and—"  
  
"Alright, I get it," Harry said, walking past him and down the steps.  
  
Huffing, Draco followed.  
  
---  
  
the two found a private booth at the Cauldron in the back, so they weren't overheard. Butterbeers were ordered, and Draco began the conversation.  
  
"First off, congratulations," Draco said, "On becoming one of us."  
  
Harry eyed him before swigging the butterbeer, then wiped his mouth before saying; "So? That still doesn't give me a clear picture as to why you're here."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and sneered, and Harry snorted; "Cut the bull, Draco," he said, "Just tell me what's going on."  
  
"Hmm, not sure you could handle it, to be honest," Draco mused, watching him as if looking at a piece of artwork. Harry was now façade-less, he wore no mask. Was this the real Potter? /I could get used to this new Harry,/Draco thought.  
  
"Do you know what shit I've been through?" Harry asked quietly; "I could handle almost anything."  
  
Draco sighed; "There's a Council, of us," he said, looking around; "We meet about every three months, and when you were Called—"  
  
"What?" Harry asked, eyeing him quizzically; "Council? Called? What the—?"  
  
Draco sighed, and lowered his voice so quietly that Harry almost had trouble hearing it; "The Council is just a group formed for all of the upper Vampires. Last night, we met, and your name came around. Elder Sabet said you had answered your _Calling_, and that one of us should go find you and then tell you about it all."  
  
"But, what I don't understand is that... you have to be bitten, right?" Harry asked.  
  
Draco shook his head; "It can also be hereditary," he replied, his voice rising to normal level; "Your grandfather, on your mother's side, was one of us. But, the Ministry killed him off;" he snorted as he leaned back in his seat; "Said it was a bloody potion gone wrong, the cowards. They're afraid that now, since we do have a sort of free-range government, they think we'll try and take over."  
  
Harry had since fallen back into his seat and sighed; "This is too much..." he moaned.  
  
"I told you it wouldn't be good," Draco said, "What happened to the 'Golden Boy' image, anyway? Come on, at least tell me that much."  
  
Harry looked away darkly, crossing his arms and leaning on the table; "All summer, I was tortured with having to live with the Dursleys. My 'friends' never owled, and I was never rescued;" he looked at Draco; "Dumbledore doesn't care, so long as I save everyone and play martyr. I hate the old coot..." he looked away darkly again.  
  
Draco nodded, leaning against the table; "Why were you put in Gryffindor?" he asked, or rather stated, shaking his head.  
  
Harry sighed; "That hat gave me a choice, lions or snakes. I chose lions because I thought I had a friend there," he glared at his butterbeer glass darkly, and Draco could have sworn that it began to bubble and fizz and send steam into the air. But it stopped when Harry looked away.  
  
"Harry," Draco began, but for once, he was at a loss for words.  
  
"So," Harry said, looking back at Draco. His eyes are so sad, Draco thought, but he was snapped back to reality when Harry continued; "How's life without your father, anyway?"  
  
"You know, I wanted to thank you for that," Draco said; "I have never been more at ease. I think I might actually be able to have a life now."  
  
Harry chuckled dryly; "I'm serious as hell, Potter," Draco said; "My father was a bastard, I was miserable. Now that he's gone, I am free. I can, I dunno, be me, I guess you could say."  
  
"No more Malfoy mask?" Harry suggested.  
  
"Burned it," Draco smirked.  
  
Harry smirked as well; "Yes well, after feeding off of my fat pig of a cousin, I ran. They won't care, either, my aunt and uncle. They might throw a party..."  
  
"And here I thought you were safe there," Draco said.  
  
Harry stared at him; "Dumbledore's put on this impression that your safe and happy at that Muggle house," Draco said, grimacing; "Honestly, how do you survive? I heard they were dreadful people."  
  
Harry nodded as memories again became fresh on his mind. Draco watched as Harry zoned out and sank into a deep recession, and clapped his hands; "Potter, snap out of it!" he said loudly, and Harry blinked several times before staring at Draco.  
  
"Sorry," he said, "I... do that sometimes..."  
  
"Didn't look like it was a happy place you went to," Draco said, "Come on, Harry, we called a truce, and you can tell I could relate to certain things..."  
  
Harry looked at him, and slowly rose; "Thanks for the information, Draco," he said in a drawl, and gathering his things, he got up from the booth.  
  
"Now wait, hang on a second!" Draco called, rising and following him.  
  
Harry stopped out at the bottom of the stairs, and faced Draco; "Just leave me alone now," he said; "Go find some other vampire to hunt down."  
  
"You're lucky we're alone," Draco said, walking over to him; "Keep it quiet, okay?" he asked quietly, looking around; "Look, you need to have some relaxation time," he said, looking at Draco; "And trust me on this. Look at you, Harry, bags under your eyes, ear piercing, ooh, a tattoo," he mused, seeing a mark on Harry's right arm.  
  
"It's a dragon," Harry said, turning his arm away; "Why are you suddenly so interested in my well being, Malfoy? And in case you haven't heard, my mother died a long time ago."  
  
"Sorry, but Harry, honestly," Draco said; "You need to lighten up."  
  
"I have no reason to celebrate," Harry muttered, turning; "I'm going to rest. See you, I guess..."  
  
"You're not tired," Draco called as Harry got past the first landing. Harry stopped, and Draco continued; "You won't be for another week or so. Forget it, Harry, no use hiding from one of your own. Come on, Blaise, Pansy and I will show you around."  
  
Harry looked at him; "Why should I?" he asked, walking halfway back down.  
  
Draco crossed his arms, and raised one eyebrow; "Well, you would fit right in," he said, face changing to a smirk, "Being part snake, after all. Besides, we're not all evil. Dark, maybe, but not evil."  
  
Harry shrugged as he came down to Draco's side; "Why not, like I would care if you killed me," he said; "So, where are you planning on taking me?"  
  
Draco smirked; "Just come on."  
  
Harry watched as the blond turned, and heaved a sigh. He followed, and found Draco already locating the other two Slytherins across the street. Harry crossed quickly, coming up behind Blaise and tapping him on the shoulder. Blaise let out a shout of fright and jumped, turning on Harry. But Harry had already dodged behind Pansy, smirking.  
  
"I'll never get used to it," Blaise muttered darkly; "First Draco, now you, Potter. I'll be dead at this rate..."  
  
"Oh, it's alright, Blaise!" Pansy cooed, wrapping her arms around his left arm. Blaise looked at her, but smiled slightly. Harry rolled his eyes and walked over to stand beside Draco.  
  
"I know," Draco muttered, rubbing his eyes; "They're engaged, though, you know. I suppose they have the right."  
  
"Let me guess, pureblood fanatical parents?" Harry asked, raising and eyebrow.  
  
Draco nodded, then turning to the couple; "Ahem, you are not alone!" he said, and Blaise and Pansy looked at him, stopping their fondling of each other.  
  
"So," Blaise said, coughing while Pansy giggled; "Where should we take the wretched soul?" he motioned to Harry.  
  
"Oh, thanks," Harry said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and glaring at Blaise.  
  
Draco smirked; "Oh, I don't know," he said, crossing his arms; "Let's see... my house isn't exactly safe... neither is yours, Blaise," he looked up from his thinking and looked at Pansy, his eyes sending off the "Ah, of course" glow.  
  
"What? Oh no, not my home!" Pansy exclaimed; "What do you think my mother would think if I brought three boys with me?"  
  
"Well, that's your own doing now, isn't it?" Blaise commented suavely. Pansy cuffed him.  
  
"Well, since I'm gay," Draco said, and Harry looked at him in surprise; "What, you didn't know?" Draco asked, looking at him as well.  
  
"It crossed my mind," Harry said, shrugging; "You are pretty girlish looking anyway, so," he shrugged again.  
  
"Oh," Draco said sullenly, "Anyway," he said, mood perking up again; "Yes Pansy, your home is the only option at this point."  
  
Pansy chewed her bottom lip in thought; "Fine," she said, "I guess. We can floo there. Come on, then, we won't be using any of these fire places."  
  
As Blaise and Pansy turned to go, Harry hung back. Draco turned and faced him. Harry was in thought; it was obvious by his brooding look. He blinked several times, and lifted his head to see Draco staring at him.  
  
"What?" he asked, beginning to walk after Pansy and Blaise. Draco matched pace with him as they went.  
  
"You must brood a lot, don't you?" Draco asked, more concerned than curious.  
  
"Don't try getting close, Malfoy," Harry warned; "You might die, too." And with that, he picked up his pace, quickly closing the gap between him and the Slytherin couple.  
  
Fuming at being left behind, Draco caught up as well.  
  
Pansy and Blaise led the group into Knockturn Alley, and they went into a small pub-looking place. It was dark and almost empty, the few witches an wizards there not giving them any notice. The four went a back room, seeing a fireplace blazing and a jar of floo powder on a table by it.  
  
"Okay," Pansy said, opening the jar; "Everyone just meet at my house," she through her powder in saying; "Parkinson's Residence!" before going into the green flames.  
  
Harry watched the fires; "That's not—" he began, but Blaise went through the flames, saying the same.  
  
"Just think of it as the evil way of getting to places," Draco said with a smirk, "Well, see you there," and so saying, he repeated; "Parkinson's Residence," and went through the flames.  
  
Harry watched the fire. /What the hell/ he thought, sighing as he through his powder in, said what he needed to, and stepped into the fire. He automatically came out the other side, in a drawing room of sorts. Blaise and Pansy were busy talking to Pansy's mother, while Draco was dusting himself off.  
  
"Pansy, as much as I enjoy having your company over—" Pansy's mother was saying, but she cut off when Harry began dusting himself off and looked up; "Is this him?" she asked Pansy, motioning to Harry.  
  
"Yes," Pansy said, "Michael, this is my mother," she said, turning to Harry and smiling; "Michael, this is my mother, Angela." [A/N: I don't know the real name of her mother, sorry!]  
  
"Mrs. Parkinson to you," Angela Parkinson said curtly, her eyes looking Harry up and down; "How do you know my daughter?"  
  
"Through Draco," Harry replied simply; "I'm new to London. They were showing me around."  
  
"We were coming here for a while," Pansy said; "It's alright, right, mother?"  
  
Angela softened at her daughter's pleading look; "Fine," she said flatly; "But nothing odd, understood?" she looked back over to Harry, eyeing him in silence; "You are familiar," she said blatantly; "Too familiar."  
  
"I get that a lot," Harry plainly replied. The lies rolled off his tongue like water; "A few say I look like that wonder boy Potter;" he snorted; "The git, I might get a new face if everybody keeps it up."  
  
"Oh, no need for such drastic resorts," Angela said, softening to him as well; "Pansy, I'll send tea for you and your guests. Would you like to take it here, or somewhere else?"  
  
"Oh, no thank you, mother," Pansy said; "We'll be going by the pond."  
  
Angela nodded; "Well, I'll leave you now. Nice meeting you, Michael;" she looked Harry up and down one more time, then departed.  
  
Harry smirked to her back, turned, and faced three very stunned Slytherins; "What?" he asked.  
  
"Oh my god," Blaise exclaimed, "You were placed in the wrong house."  
  
"Yeah, I get that a lot," Harry said, glancing at Draco.  
  
"Well, you should just get resorted," Pansy said; "Come on, let's go."  
  
---  
  
The pond was actually a small lake, located in the back property of the Parkinson's estate. Harry promptly dropped down to the ground, and laid on his back as he stared up at he sky. Draco, Blaise, and Pansy did the same, and for a moment, no one spoke.  
  
Finally, Blaise broke the silence; "So, anybody get _the Prophet_ today?"  
  
Draco and Pansy both snorted, while Harry rolled over, facing Draco. He was staring at the grass sullenly. Draco watched him, before finally replying; "Of course we got that damn paper."  
  
Blaise nodded; "Can you believe that Weasley fellow became the new Minister of Magic after they sacked Fudge?"  
  
"They did?" Harry asked, looking up at Blaise. He hadn't heard about that.  
  
"Yes," Draco said, leaning back. He stretched, making sure he exposed his muscled stomach. Harry rolled his eyes as he laid on his back again, but couldn't resist glancing over.  
  
"Oh, Fudge went mad, they say," Blaise said, oblivious to it all as he watched the clouds; "It's quite funny really. You'd think that old coot Dumbledore would take the job..."  
  
"He has," Harry said, "Author Weasley's wrapped around his finger," he said scornfully, glaring up at the sky; "Only a matter of time before Ministry Officials track me down and drag me off to their house;" he rolled back over onto his side, facing the other three; "But, I won't go without a fight and a word."  
  
"There ya go, Harry," Pansy said; "Wow, you sure aren't the golden boy we all thought you were. What happened to the Gryffindor _'Fight for the Light'_ attitude, huh?"  
  
"It died and went to hell," Harry replied simply, looking at her with slightly raised eyebrows and hooded eyes; "Like nearly everything else I thought I knew..." He looked back up at he sky and sighed; "I hate having to go back to school..." he mused.  
  
"Oh, I can agree," Blaise said; "How many do you think we'll have to nick this year, Drake?"  
  
"Oh, probably fifty," Draco replied.  
  
Harry eyed them curiously; "Oh, he doesn't know," Pansy said slowly as she curled up in Blaise's lap.  
  
Blaise nodded after a moment of thought, and Draco looked at Harry, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow; "You see;" he said; "We Slytherins must keep up our guises of being dark, cold, malicious Death- Eaters-To-Be, therefore, we are under a lot of scrutiny. So much so, that certain people have to be quieted to insure our sanity;" he looked at Blaise; "How many was it last year, Blaise?"  
  
Blaise looked up in thought; "Only about fifteen," he replied finally; "But then, no one knows what happened during the actual Tournament's final leg, only a few, anyway," his gaze drifted to Harry, who had rolled over and looked away at the subject.  
  
/Why am I even here? / Harry asked himself, pulling at the grass as he suddenly became awash with anger. /They have no idea... They don't know...! / He gritted his teeth as he sat up and threw the grass, which coincidently disintegrated upon leaving his palm. Harry, as well as the silent Slytherins, watched the ashes fall to the ground. Harry shook what landed on his leg, and then looked up at them with an emotionless, yet innocent gaze.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, looking at them all. His gaze landed on Draco, who was smirking as he stared at him.  
  
"Wandless magic, guys," Draco assured the other two, who were watching Harry uneasily. Silently, they nodded.  
  
Harry began to feel uneasy when their gazes lifted, and Blaise and pansy animatedly talked, but soon it escalated to fondling and kisses. Draco and Harry both got up and left, leaving the couple.  
  
"It's fascinating, really," Harry said as he and Draco were walking back to the house; "How they can be so shameless, not caring what people think..."  
  
"Well, they're going to be married, might as well get used to it," Draco scoffed; "Why, aren't you ever flamboyant? I know you have no regard for the rules..."  
  
"Are you ever not a prat?" Harry retorted, then he sighed; "Sorry," he said sullenly, "it's just... when you're under the damn light, you don't want to drag others into it," he sighed again, looking forward regretfully; "No one would want this, trust me..."  
  
Draco stared at Harry in silence, the honesty and harsh reality of Harry's statement stunning him. They walked the rest of the way in that manner, both engrossed in thoughts, at times wavering on each other. Harry still couldn't fathom why Draco was being so... pleasant. He was good company, under the circumstances. Harry knew that now, he couldn't be enemies with Draco, since they were both vampires.  
  
Vampire... it still awed Harry at what he now was. He had amazing power, well, add it to what he already possessed. He truly could be his own army now; he had a back-up plan to not follow Dumbledore. Harry was determined to find the old man out. Now, no one would deter him from living his own life. Something he'd always wanted.  
  
Draco cast glances at Harry. The teen beside him was absolutely astounding. The Calling Transformation had really done a number on Harry, and in a very good way. Draco knew it probably was the last thing Harry had expected. /Poor guy. I didn't know it was so hard/ Draco thought. /Wait, Malfoys don't say that. Well, dad's gone, I don't have to follow his rules anymore... I can live my own life.../  
  
"It's funny," Harry suddenly said, just as the manor's back side was coming into view; "How Fate can be like this..."  
  
"What do you mean?" Draco asked, eyeing Harry.  
  
"Well," Harry said, smirking slightly as he looked at Draco; "Look, two sworn enemies can now only be friends, I'm a vampire, and hell, I'm friends with Slytherins..."  
  
"Think you'll fit in with the Gryffindorks now?" Draco asked.  
  
"Not likely," Harry said, half-laughing sullenly; "They might throw me out for the piercing and tattoo alone..."  
  
"You know, you could get re-sorted," Draco said as they walked up to the porch and sat down.  
  
"Wasn't that mentioned earlier?" Harry asked, walking around the deck and peering into a window.  
  
Draco watched him; "Yes," he said finally, looking away when Harry turned around; "If you're so depressed, and thinking on going back ot that lot makes you even worse, then just ask to be resorted. Or, just sneak in at night with your things and you could take my spare bed."  
  
At this, Harry eyed him oddly; "I'm a prefect, I get my own chambers," Draco explained, rolling his eyes afterward; "Honestly," he mused, shaking his head as he stared at the sky.  
  
"Sorry I'm so complicated," Harry sneered; "Bit of a fucking life I've had, if you can understand that."  
  
"Ooh," Draco said, looking at Harry through hooded eyes; "Sorry, 'Wonder Boy', I'll be careful next time around."  
  
Before Draco could react, Harry had lunged for him, knocked him out of his chair, and pinned him to the ground; "_Don't call me that_," Harry whispered, anger filling his eyes; "You don't know me, that's a damn guise the world made for me. If you _knew_," he said, eyes changing from madness to horror and angst as the raven-haired teen rose off a startled Draco. "No one does," Harry muttered, walking over to the wall and leaning against it. He fell to the ground, drawing his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around them as he bowed his head and sighed.  
  
Draco slowly rose, and stared at the crumbling form before his eyes. /Oh no, don't you dare cry in front of me/ he thought as he walked over to Harry. Once again, Harry had zoned out. Sighing, Draco dropped to his side, trying to ignore the slight pain in his shoulders and head.  
  
"Potter, snap out of it," Draco said, tapping Harry on the temple. Harry flinched and stiffened, and Draco watched him. Stiffened? Flinched? what...  
  
"What the hell has happened to you?" Draco asked calmly, brushing the hair from Harry's face to get a better view.  
  
Harry glanced over at him, and muttered something that Draco could barely hear. It sounded vaguely like "bloody fucking family" and "so much". Draco also caught "alone", and "no way out".  
  
"My hearing's good but not _that_ good," Draco said, smirking; "Care that we talk elsewhere?"  
  
Harry made no move to rise, so Draco sighed again as he rose. He slowly reached out had touched Harry's arm, and when the young vampire didn't stiffen again, Draco gently lifted him up. Harry's eyes were vacant and void, and only when Draco slapped him lightly did he wake from the trance- like state.  
  
"Dr-Draco?" Harry mumbled, staring at him groggily; "Wha... what just happened?"  
  
"Are you drunk?" Draco asked; "You zoned out - _again_!" he groaned; "Oh, that's it, you're going back to that inn and resting..."  
  
Taking Harry gently by the arm, Draco walked into the house, past a questioning Angela Parkinson, and to the fireplace. Taking some floo powder, Draco stepped into the fireplace and said; "Leaky Cauldron room eleven!" before he and Harry were taken away by the green flames.  
  
---To be continued---  
  
A/N: chapter two and Drake's already protective. Ah well, maybe not as slow. I think the dragon's patience will run thin next chapter, Draco will have trouble dealing with Harry and his depressed mind. Or he might not, it depends on reviews. Let's aim for around 10, okay? Or at least 13. 13 is a lucky number. 


	3. Truthful, Distant Confessions

A/N: hello! Sorry this is late I finally got my own account for a computer! Ha-ha and it has a password, so for now I'm safe!!!! Yay for me!  
  
PsychoticDeath, oh, you should post your fics up! Thanks for reviewing, and that was a good quote. I've heard it before, but differently wink oh well. Anyway, yes, 13 is my favorite and luckiest number. I'm not very superstitious anyway, so why not? Haha anyway thanks!  
  
Oracale, thanks for reviewing! Oh, you love my story? Thank you so much!!!!! Yes, Harry and Draco talk, and don't worry, patience is a virtue, ya know.  
  
NOTES: /---/ thoughts  
  
_Disclaimer:_ I don't own anything, you all know that. But if you do, could you share? Pretty please wit sprinkles on top? Fine, be that way. I'll just write my fic and twiddle my thumbs as I wait for reviews.  
  
**(3)......**  
  
Both teens were literally thrown from the fireplace, Harry landing above Draco. Draco opened his eyes and groaned, and Harry climbed off of him slowly.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled, blushing.  
  
Harry helped Draco up, and Draco dusted the ashes from his clothing. He looked around, eyeing the mess with distaste; "How can you live like this?" he asked, walking over to a pile of clothing and picking it up.  
  
Harry laughed vaguely as he sat on the bed; "Morning rush," he replied simply, lying down.  
  
"Well, bit of an atrocious rush," Draco commented as he dumped the clothing into Harry's trunk; "Say, where's that owl of yours?" he asked, looking around the room; "Off on a hunt?"  
  
Harry shook his head and rolled over as he curled into a ball slightly, drawing his legs up a little and wrapping his arms around himself.  
  
Draco sighed, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed; "What happened, then?" he asked, crossing his arms.  
  
"Why would you care?" Harry asked, looking at him through his bangs. He went ahead and pulled the string out, letting his hair fall freely.  
  
Draco tried to look unfazed, and replied; "Dunno; don't really care about anything anymore. I'm actually just curious."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and muttered something, before looking out the window; "She died," he said flatly, closing his eyes.  
  
Draco watched him as Harry began to look ill-fated and weary; "Dare I ask," he said, "Was it those bloody Muggles?"  
  
Harry nodded; "I wouldn't let Dudley... near me, and he... killed Hedwig," he didn't dare say when and why.  
  
Draco looked at him sympathetically; "I'm sorry to here that," he said.  
  
"Yeah, sure you are," Harry muttered; "The first gift I get from my first friend who liked me for who I was, and she gets slaughtered with bare hands," he finished darkly.  
  
"I could kill him, if you like," Draco suggested; "I could make it look like an—"  
  
"Why do you even care about what I feel?" Harry suddenly asked, sitting up and looking at Draco. He eyed the blonde.  
  
Draco cleared his throat as he rose; "One, obligation," he said, turning and facing Harry; "Two, you look too different to ignore, Harry. I'm intrigued at the new Potter. Well, I suppose you can't be Potter anymore, seeing as how he was just a lanky confused kid. You seem... mature and... oh hell, you just seem like you've aged too quick, Harry."  
  
"Well, if you've been through the shit I've been through," Harry began.  
  
"Yeah, well Harry, I haven't had the perfect life either!" Draco said loudly; "Don't play martyr when you're around me, okay? You might have had the Dark Lord in your head, but I had to _live_ with him. He was at the manor for ages! Father beat me for insubordination, _he-beat-me_! I've been beaten since before I could remember, Harry!_ Look_!" he lifted his shirt, revealing a thing scar that stretched from his nipple to the side of his stomach at level with his belly button and rounding around to end just as it rounded on his back. Harry stared at it, and Draco let his shirt fall.  
  
"And that's not the beginning," Draco said.  
  
"You think that's bad?" Harry asked, getting up and facing Draco. He completely took his shirt off, and Draco held his breath.  
  
Though Harry was well built, that was overridden by the sheer amount of abuse. Bruises along his sides and chest, cuts, scrapes, and of course, cutting marks on his arms. Harry stared at the stunned blonde. There were cars from lashings with belts, and along the waist band of Harry's pants, more bruising...  
  
"Holy shit," Draco said, covering his mouth.  
  
"Hellish Shit, more like," Harry said darkly.  
  
"You... _you were raped_!" Draco exclaimed; "Who was it, Harry? Was it your cousin? Your uncle? Oh to hell I'll kill them all!" he roared angrily, pulling at his hair and turning away.  
  
"Don't shout, Draco," Harry said quietly, worried for the other boy's sanity; "It's nothing, really..."  
  
"NOTHING?!" Draco asked, looking at Harry incredulously; "How can you stand there... and say that... all of _this_—" he walked over and gently touched a bruise, which caused Harry to wince and stiffen at the contact; "Is just _nothing_?! Harry, this can't be bypassed!" he took in a long, deep breath, stepping away again; "You flinch at someone's touch, Harry," Draco said quietly, looking at the other vampire; "Look, you've become depressed. And don't roll your eyes, you know you are," he said; "What else has happened, anyway? Besides the fact that Dumbledore forced you to go through a bloody fucking hell..." he shook his head; "Never mind, I might kill all of Surrey if you don't tell me."  
  
Harry stared at him, "You're angry," he said.  
  
"Oh, no shit, Sherlock, go tell Watson," Draco said sardonically; "Oh course I'm upset! Look at what _the_y did! Why didn't you kill your cousin off while you fed?"  
  
"I didn't want more blood on my hands," Harry said, barely a whisper; "But, Draco... why are you mad for_ me_?"  
  
Draco froze. /Oh fucking shit/ he thought. Harry continued to gaze at him, shocked. But, what else was there, in those emerald pools that Draco adored so much? Was it... relief?  
  
"I..." Draco said, "Because, Harry... I..." he sighed; "I've always wanted to know you, ever since the first time we met. And now, I do, and... to see..." he couldn't finish.  
  
"A Mask is a bitch," Harry said sullenly, looking away; "No one's seen me, the real me. _This _me," he spread his arms slightly before they fell; "No one would care, anyway..." he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and hanging his head; "If they did, I wouldn't be like this..."  
  
Draco stared at Harry, how he seemed so crestfallen and... alone. The blonde swiftly sat beside Harry. "What about your friends, the Weasel and Granger? Don't _they_ care?"  
  
"They're too busy snogging one another at Ron's new house to care," Harry said; "They were only my friends because I was the Boy-Who-Lived. We were drifting apart anyway... And all because I decided there was no point hiding my frustration;" he sighed; "fat lot o' good that got me..."  
  
Draco nodded; "Well, I'm here if you need a new friend," he said, "So are Pansy and Blaise, and Crabbe and Goyle will be okay with it, too."  
  
"But, you guys area bunch of Death Eater Kids," Harry said, "No offense, but, you know, your parents and all..."  
  
"Look, our parents might have been for You-Know-Who, but I for one refuse to get that damn Mark. Blaise will, so he can be a spy, and Pansy," he paused; "I don't think they'll make her, to be honest. Crabbe and Goyle won't either."  
  
"But, the rest of Slytherin..." Harry said, looking up at him.  
  
"Yet another façade," Draco said casually, leaning back against the bed railing; "Honestly Harry, Don't believe everything you here, okay?"  
  
Harry looked away at that, and rose. Draco watched as he moved to the window, and stared at his back. Bruises, black, purple, Draco couldn't believe it. And there were long raking marks down his back. Draco felt anger rise in him, it was just too much for him. Draco looked away, preferring to admire Harry's hair. It was much better than scars and bruises...  
  
"That's what got me here," Harry said quietly, crossing his arms as he watched the moon rise. It was nearly full, and it made him think of Remus Lupin; "Why can't I just have a normal life...?" he sighed the question.  
  
"What's normal," Draco mumbled, leaning back on his elbows as he stretched out on the bed.  
  
Harry managed a weak, unconvincing laugh; "Good point," he said, turning around. He walked back over to the bed, and sat down before lying against the throw pillows.  
  
Draco caught sight of a black, highly-detailed dragon run across Harry's under left arm, and disappeared around his back. Harry must have seen his gaze, because he said; "It's because of the magic. The tattoo guy put it on, and at night, it moved."  
  
Draco nodded dumbly, thoughts elsewhere.  
  
/Ah, he's on the bed/ Draco thought in a strangled voice as he fought not to look. /half naked, on the bed, me beside him...! No Draco, bad thoughts.... Um quick, Hagrid naked, a bunch of naked death eaters dancing around a fire... Ugh, that worked well.../ Draco grimaced inwardly at his attempts to rid himself of the thoughts of Harry that would create a surprise in his trousers he didn't want succeeded. But for good measure, Draco laid on his stomach, facing Harry.  
  
Harry had been watching him; "What?" Draco asked.  
  
Harry shook his head, "Nothing," he said, "Shouldn't you be getting home? It's late..."  
  
"No, Sev won't mind me being out late," Draco said, looking at his nails; "Besides," he said, looking up; "I'm worried about you, Harry. After what I saw on your arms, who knows what you might do to yourself," he added.  
  
Harry eyed him; "I'm not suicidal," he muttered darkly.  
  
"Not yet," Draco commented, and was rewarded with a face full of throw pillow; "Hey!"  
  
"You asked for it," Harry said, laughing quietly. The laugh was like music to Draco; "So, who's Sev?"  
  
Draco looked at him, surprised; "_Severus Snape_?" he drawled slowly.  
  
"Oh," Harry said, nodding; "why would you be staying with him, anyway?"  
  
"Well, seeing as how my farther is incarcerated and my mother is on hiatus mentally, and also since he is godfather," Draco paused at Harry's stricken look of sadness and anger; "What's wrong?"  
  
Harry shook his head, and closed his eyes as he imagined sinking into the mattress as far as possible. Draco edged a little closer as Harry mumbled something.  
  
"Care to repeat that?" Draco asked.  
  
"My godfather died," Harry whispered, playing with a loose string on the embroidering of the comforter; "By Voldermort's minions, no less..."  
  
Draco stared at him; "The Department of Mysteries thing, right?" he asked quietly.  
  
Harry nodded, then looked at him; "How do you know?" he asked.  
  
"Vampire Council," Draco said simply, "We know everything. Well, Elder Sabet does, he informs us."  
  
"Who is this guy?" Harry asked.  
  
"You'll meet him eventually," Draco said, smirking; "And, though he's quite the dashing man, don't let his outer shell fool you. He's lethal and deadly cunning. I admire him, to be honest," Draco said, looking at his nails again; "Perfect Slytherin. Went to school with Riddle himself, they say. Anyway," Draco turned to Harry; "I believe you're right about the whole late thing;" He got up; "I'm going to be around the Alley again tomorrow. Do you plan on leaving this pin?"  
  
Harry smirked and nodded; "Yeah, eventually," he said, rising.  
  
Draco nodded; "Then I'll see you then," he said, walking over and opening the door. He turned as he stepped out into the hallway, and their gazes met, and they silently stared at each other.  
  
Harry walked over, resting a hand on the door as he stared at Draco. Draco, being a good four inches shorter, looked up at him, and Harry planted a kiss on his lips. It left Draco breathless.  
  
"I'm glad we're friends, Draco," Harry said quietly, smiling.  
  
The smile was genuine, the first Draco had ever seen directed at him; "As am I," he said just as quiet, then he coughed nervously; "Tomorrow, you could meet me down in the Cauldron?"  
  
"Sure," Harry said, "Why?"  
  
"Well, Muggle London's always fascinated me," Draco said, "It's not a date or anything, you just need something to do."  
  
/I just gave the guy a kiss and he doesn't seem to care/ Harry thought, smirking; "Okay then, tomorrow," he said finally.  
  
Draco smiled, then turned and walked down the steps. He stopped and looked back to see Harry watching him go. Turning back and smirking, Draco walked over through the pub, intent on using the fireplace. But what he was greeted with did not bode well with him.  
  
Sitting around a table were Fred, George, Ron, and Bill Weasley. The four brothers were sharing pints of butterbeer, celebrating their father's dramatic upgrade in jobs. They weren't full-out drunk, but weren't exactly sober either. Draco remained calm, and began to walk confidently over to the fireplace, unfortunately, Ron saw him  
  
"Well," Ron said, "if it isn't _ferret boy_."  
  
Draco stopped, and put on his best sarcastic smirk before turning around and calmly replying; "And a fine hello to you as well, Weasel."  
  
Ron eyed him evilly; "What brings you to here, eh? Thought places like these were _below _you."  
  
"Oh, haven't you read the papers?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow; "My father's locked away, I'm free to do as I wish. Besides, I have a friend rooming here for the summer. I was just bidding him goodnight and was about to return to my residence when I was insulted by you."  
  
The blatant response had Ron silent. But Fred and George responded for their youngest brother.  
  
"So," Fred began; "Who is your friend, Malfoy—?"  
  
"—Or was he just another one-nighter?" George continued.  
  
"Actually," Draco drawled, crossing his arms and examining his hand lazily before looking up at the redheads; "I was visiting someone you might know, Weasleys. I was referring to my friend, _Harry_."  
  
Ron coughed on his drink, as did the other three Weasleys; "You were _what_?" he asked dangerously.  
  
"I-was-visiting-Harry," Draco said slowly and deliberately; "He's quite a good fellow, considering what hell he's been through. But you wouldn't know that, seeing as how you never owled him or offered to save him from that shit hole of a home."  
  
Ron looked down, and Bill spoke up this time; "Dumbledore said he was safe there, and that sending owls would be dangerous!"  
  
"Oh, what a trustworthy person you all have given your lives to," Draco said, glaring at them; "I'd be ashamed, to be honest, and I'm a _Slytherin_, a snake;" he turned; "I have to get home now, thank you."  
  
The four Weasleys watched as Draco left, still sitting in stunned silence.  
  
---  
  
Harry's mind was racing. Had he just kissed Draco? And he had enjoyed it; it sent a shiver throughout his whole body. And Draco had been kind and understanding to Harry, something he never expected. Oh, it was too confusing. /It's good I know I'm gay, at least/ Harry thought. It was true, in the fourth year that Harry had come to terms with his sexuality. Now, almost two years later, he found himself attracted to Draco Malfoy. /I need a drink/ He thought, throwing on a shirt before opening his door. Shutting it behind him, Harry went down the steps silent as a falling feather to the wind, and reached the pub section in a matter of seconds. He slipped in, automatically seeing, hearing, and sensing the Weasleys. Harry ducked over to the bar, and as he reached over for the bottles, he listened to their conversation.  
  
"He was joking," Fred said, half-laughing; "Harry wouldn't even talk to him!"  
  
"He said you guys never owled him!" Bill protested; "what the hell is up with that, Ron? I thought you were his best friend!"  
  
/Go Bill/ Harry thought as he saw Ron's look of numb guilt. Harry retrieved a butterbeer, but when he looked up, Ron looking indifferent to the problem. Harry slipped back into the shadows, watching.  
  
---  
  
"Look, we've been drifting apart anyway," the redheaded Gryffindor said, "I mean, he wouldn't even talk to me an' 'Mione much last year. He wasn't around us as much, and we went along with the whole Department of Mysteries thing was because Hermione was wanting revenge against Umbridge and the lot and I went along to please her!"  
  
"Ron, come _on_," George moaned.  
  
"I'm serious!" Ron said, "And you two were there, you knew what he was like! He was going dark, I swear on it! And now, Malfoy comes around claiming he's _friends_ with Harry?"  
  
"Ron, not so loud!" Fred hissed, "Sure, Harry was a little moody, but-"  
  
"No, Fred," George said, "Ron's got a point. Harry _was_ going dark..." he shook his head, eyes sending mixed signals of disbelief and shock as he brushed his bangs from his face.  
  
"It was a matter of time before he found things out," Bill mused; "I mean, Dumbledore's been, oh, I don't want to say manipulating him, but..."  
  
"Border lining that," Fred said, "'_Winning him over_' sounds nicer."  
  
"Yeah, well I heard he attacked his cousin when he left," Bill said; "and don't tell a soul I said this, but they say he used wandless magic."  
  
The other three coughed in their drinks; "_Wandless_ magic?" Fred squeaked, wiping his mouth.  
  
Bill nodded.

"Blimey," George said, shocked.  
  
"Go figure," Ron said, "Like none of us saw it coming... I'm telling you, if Harry keeps at it, he'll side with You-Know-Who. Then, we're all doomed."  
  
"Yeah, but he's missing," George said.  
  
"Malfoy said he was rooming here," Fred said, "Pay attention!" he rapped his twin on his head; "Besides, I saw Ha—" he was going to continue but he was cut off.  
  
"Yeah, but who can trust a fricken _Malfoy_?" Bill asked.  
  
"You'd be surprised if I said he wasn't lying..."  
  
Harry walked out of the shadows, into the shadows of the chandelier above the table. It cast dramatic shadows on his features, giving him a handsome, but ghostly, look.  
  
Ron and Fred turned around, while George and Bill were gawking; "W-who are you?" Ron asked, standing up.  
  
Harry was still an inch shy of his former friend, but he still retained n arrogant, yet apathetic tone; "Oh, that's sad, Ron, really sad. Can't even recognize me? I thought I was a good friend of yours."  
  
Ron's eyes widened with realization, and he took a step back as the three other brothers rose; "Ha-Harry?" he managed.  
  
Harry glared at him; "Yeah, who'd you expect?" he asked darkly; "Voldermort?"  
  
All four Weasleys winced and cringed at that, and Harry smirked; "It's just a name..."  
  
"Well, someone seems to have not improved since this morning," Fred said, "Holiday got worse when Malfoy bothered you?"  
  
"No," Harry said, setting his empty mug down and crossing his arms; "It actually got a little better. You see, Draco and I are friends now, and—"  
  
"You're lying," Ron said, "How could you be friends with him? After all he's done?"  
  
Harry shrugged; "We called a truce," he said; "But then, under _thes_e circumstances, we should be friends, anyway. It was inevitable, Weasley."  
  
"Wait, what did you call him?" Bill asked.  
  
"Weasley," Harry said, "That is your name, right?" he asked, looking at Ron; "I guess you expect me to call you by your first name, but see, only_ friends_ do that."  
  
"I am you're friend, Harry!" Ron protested; "We all are!"  
  
"Oh, like shit you are!" Harry said, almost a snarl; "'_He's going dark, I swear on it_'!" he said, mocking Ron's voice; "I thought friends didn't gossip about each other," Harry said; "Do you know how many people I kept quiet for your sake? I probably sent four people to the Hospital Wing last year alone so they wouldn't bother you all! And all that time you were merely being around me to please Hermione? She wouldn't approve of that, and you know it!"  
  
"_Lie_," Ron said, seething; "Liar!" he shouted.  
  
"Go ahead, call me what you want, Ron, I don't care!" Harry said, "God, and to think I trusted all of you! I bet you've been scurrying off to kiss Dumbledore's feet and tell him everything;" he paused, and brushed his hair from his eyes; "Over the holiday, I did a lot of thinking. I'm being re-sorted come next term, and then, I'm washing my hands of all of you. I am no one's 'Wonder Boy' or 'leader of the Golden Trio'. Those days are dead, like our friendship," and with that, he turned around, and swiftly left the pub and up to his room.  
  
Ron was shaking with anger, and George shoved him to sit down.  
  
Meanwhile, Fred and Bill were in shock; "Did you see how fast he went?" Fred whispered, both still staring where Harry had once stood.  
  
Bill nodded; "Yeah," he replied; "And his eyes, his height... you just don't change that much in under a month..."  
  
"Something happened," Fred said; "Because that, dear brother, is not our Harry Potter."  
  
"We need to go after him," George said; "This isn't right."  
  
But Ron had already risen and rushed off after Harry.

---  
  
Harry was halfway to his room, taking his time, when Ron shoved him into the wall roughly. Harry eyed him apathetically, and Ron became seething with rage.  
  
"How dare you just come in like that," Ron hissed; "After all we've done for you!" he shoved Harry into the wall roughly before backing away.  
  
"What have you done for me, Ron?" Harry asked quietly, still apathetic; "You've been there, but why? For your own safety?"  
  
Ron was quiet at that, and Harry nodded; "Oh, and I've never lied to you," Harry said, "I'm the one who should be calling that one." He turned; "I can't say it was nice seeing you again..."  
  
Ron looked at him, hatred in his eyes; "You know what, _Potter_," he said angrily; "Go ahead. I hope you like being in your new house."  
  
"Thanks, Weasley," Harry sneered, walking up to his room, he unlocked the door without his wand, and it opened for him. Ron was staring at him, mouth open slightly; "What," Harry said, "See something you like?" he smirked before walking into his room, and slamming the door.  
  
Ron stared at the door, before shouting angrily and turning to walk back into the pub. His three brothers were whispering anxiously, but quieted when Ron entered.  
  
"Get things sorted out?" Fred asked, though his voice didn't hide his worry.  
  
"No," Ron muttered, "Let's get home."  
  
"But what about Harry?" Fred asked.  
  
"Harry _who_?" Ron asked, looking at his brother with darkened, hooded eyes; "I only know a Potter, Harry's dead as far as I'm concerned."  
  
"Should we tell dad?" Bill asked.  
  
"Of course," Fred said; "They've got to find him, anyway!"  
  
---  
  
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the Weasleys below, Harry had already packed up his things, and had shrunk his trunk and belongings. He went over to the door, opened it slightly, and pulled out his pay for the room. He left the money on the dresser, then went over to the fire place, belongings in tow, and took the jar of floo powder.  
  
Harry drew out a handful of the fine powder, looking at it. He then looked at the flames, and through it in. the flames ignited into green fire, and Harry stepped into it.  
  
"Severus Snape Residence..."  
  
---To be continued---  
  
_A/N:_ Damn straight Harry changed. Ooh, and Draco and Harry shared a kiss! Oh, he left, you wonder why? Haha review and find out!


	4. A Night of Restless Slumbers

A/N: hello! Thank you everybody for reviewing! Yay for me!!!!  
  
NOTES: /---/ thoughts

there's also a dream in this, I'll leave you to figure out who and what it's about. Good luck, it's not too confusing! j/k, it's easy to figure out  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, you all know that...  
  
**(4)......**  
  
Draco came through the fire, and dusted himself off. The living room was empty, but the sconces were lit and the flames cast shadows on the walls. The walls were lined with book shelves and portraits, the paint upon them a soft forest green. There were three sofas and a coffee table positioned between them by the fire. Draco ran a hand as he walked out of the sitting room, and into the hallway.  
  
The hallway was of hard wood, varnished and decorated with rugs of dark, warm shades. Again, there were portraits, but they were all asleep. Draco glanced at the clock positioned between two portraits. /Shit/ he thought when he saw that it was nearly midnight.  
  
Draco saw a light coming from a room to the left and down the hall, the study. He went to it, grateful for his stealth. He poked his head in, and saw his godfather, Severus Snape, standing by his desk. In the candlelight, he was reading a letter, and by the envelope on his desk, which bore the Hogwarts seal, it was from the Headmaster of said school. Snape's brow was furrowed as his onyx eyes glanced over the letter, and he sighed.  
  
"Sev," Draco said quietly, stepping into view.  
  
Snape jumped slightly in surprise, looking up at Draco; "Draco," he said, his voice steady compared to the other times Draco came home late; "Where have you been?"  
  
"Duty," Draco replied simply.  
  
Snape nodded; "Well," he said; "Sabet left a letter to you, it's in your room," he had gone back to reading the letter, and sighed.  
  
"Who's that from?" Draco asked, peering over Snape's shoulder.  
  
"Dumbledore," Snape said curtly, stepping away and hiding the letter from Draco's view.  
  
"Ah, come on, Sev!" Draco said, going after him; "It's not like I'll tell anyone!"  
  
"Fine, if you must know," Snape said, folding the parchment; "Potter's missing. He took out his cousin on his way. Though they're not sure, the Order thinks that he is running away from everything, and that if he's not found, all is lost," he rolled his eyes and sighed; "I honestly feel sorry for him..."  
  
"Well, what if I said he wasn't missing?" Draco asked naively.  
  
"Oh?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow to his godson.  
  
Draco nodded; "The assignment I was on?" he asked; "I had to find Har—Potter."  
  
Snape eyed him; "You mean," he said, "No, potter isn't.... you've got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed, wiping his brow; "Now he's a—?"  
  
"Yes!" Draco said, smiling; "Sabet wanted me to keep an eye on him, show him the ropes. That was my job today. I found Harry and we talked about everything. He seems okay with it, but Sev, he's a wreck. He's beaten horribly, bruises and cuts and—ick just _everywhere_! And something happened to him that traumatized him. I reached out to shake his hand, and he flinched _and_ cringed! Anyway, I was going to—"  
  
They both froze as they heard a crash. Snape's hand dropped the letter and went to his wand, but Draco had already gone to the source of the sound. It had been a crash, in the living room. Draco slipped into the room through the shadows, and as he went around the room in silence, he saw a trunk against a shattered coffee table. Quirking an eyebrow thoughtfully, Draco came out of the shadows and watched as a leg came from the flames, then an arm, and then finally, the rest of the body. Harry Potter fell out with a shout, catching himself and quickly jumping to a couch. He looked around, dusting himself off. His eyes quickly found the blonde vampire in the shadows, and Harry sighed.  
  
"I can sense you," Harry drawled, rolling his eyes as Draco came out into the open.  
  
"What are you doing here, anyway?" Draco asked.  
  
Before Harry could reply, Snape came in, wand poised on Harry; "Get off my furniture, and do not make a move to escape," he said dangerously, causing Harry to freeze.  
  
"Would you really attack a student?" Harry asked, turning his head and looking at Snape's stunned expression.  
  
"Ha-Harry Potter," he said, lowering his wand smugly; "I should have guessed. Tell me, what has caused you to... come to _my_ home?"  
  
Harry got down, and faced him; "I couldn't risk rooming at _the Cauldron_ when the Weasley Clan found me;" he replied solemnly; "And, this was the only place I could think of off the bat that would be safe enough for me... you know, from the Order and such."  
  
"That might be my fault," Draco said admittedly; "I um, well..."  
  
"You were being your usual prat self;" Harry answered for him as he turned and smirked at the blonde.  
  
Snape stared at the two; "And I was under the impression you two were bitter rivals;" he muttered; "I'm going to owl Albus—"  
  
"**NO**!" Harry said, in front of Snape in an instant. Snape eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"Oh?" Snape asked; "And why can I not owl him?"  
  
"Because, if that old man finds out I haven't run away for good, I won't get the chance to get my point across," Harry said; "Come on, Professor," he said, while at he same time thinking /Don't make me beg, you bastard/.  
  
Snape stared at him, and Draco walked over to them; "Severus," he said; "If you won't let him stay here on your own will, than please, let him stay as my guest if anything."  
  
Snape considered it. The thought of actually fooling the supposed "greatest wizard" of their time was tempting, since the old coot had the upper hand 99% of the time. But this was not the average teen Snape wanted around. This was _Harry Potter_. Still, something must have happened for Draco to worry over it. And, being able to monitor the young vampire would be a plus...  
  
"I will need to think on it," Snape said finally; "For now, though, Draco, help Harry take his things—" he paused when he turned and saw the damage. Snape rolled his eyes and moaned, and with a flick of his wand, the trunk was leveled and the coffee table was fixed; "Help Harry take his things to the guest room, please."  
  
Draco nodded, and he and Harry took Harry's trunk to the hallway, Snape watching them. When the two went up the steps, he sighed wearily, and sat on the nearest sofa, slumping into the cushions as he rubbed his eyes.  
  
---  
  
Harry and Draco brought the trunk up to the second floor, and went to the door on the west side of the wide landing. Draco opened the door, and they shoved it in. Harry walked in, and looked around. It wasn't a large room, but there was a nice bed, a desk, closet door, and a bookshelf. There were two windows, as well as a large bay window overlooking outside. Harry went over, taken by surprise by what he saw. He looked back at Draco.  
  
"Snape lives in Hogsmead?" Harry asked.  
  
"Temporarily," Draco said, crossing his arms and looking around the room as well; "This is just a summer place, you know. He spends most of the time at Hogwarts."  
  
Harry nodded; "Hey, thanks for backing me up and all."  
  
"What are friends for?" Draco asked, smirking.  
  
/Yeah, exquisitely hot friends/ Harry thought, but he mentally slapped himself for thinking that. /C'mon, Harry, this is Draco... but we _are_ friends now.../  
  
"Yeah, suppose you're right," Harry said finally; "We still on for tomorrow?"  
  
Draco broke out of his trance of thoughts, and stared at Harry; "Err, of course!" he said blearily.  
  
"What were you thinking about?" Harry asked, eyeing him mischievously.  
  
"Nothing," Draco said bluntly, walking to the door; "Good night, Mister Potter, I do hope you enjoy you're stay at the Snape Inn."  
  
Harry laughed quietly; "Of course, Mister Malfoy," he said suavely; "And I must thank you for assisting me."  
  
"A pleasure," Draco said, smiling as he pulled the door closed behind him.  
  
Harry stood there, staring at the door. _Draco_ _Malfoy_ had actually _smiled_. Harry smiled himself as he undressed and got ready for bed. He climbed into the bed. He reveled in its comfort, pulling the comforter and soft blankets around him and sighing. It was a good feeling, and Harry eased enough to where his wings unfolded from his body slightly, visibly black against the green silk. Soon, Harry was in a calm slumber. But it didn't last...  
  
---  
  
_"**BOY, WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU**?" Smack  
  
"**YOU'RE USELESS, YOU WASTE OF AIR!!!!! YOU'RE LUCKY WE TOOK YOU IN**!!!!" Punch  
  
"_You're beautiful, you know that, Freak? Oh... and so—tight.._." Searing pain.  
  
__Can't get out.  
  
No one can here you.  
  
All alone...  
  
No body cares...  
  
Red, all red, oh, and black with pain... so lost... no way out... too deep...  
  
Screams, all my fault... all my fault...  
  
No light in sight... no savior for me... my martyr won't come around...  
  
Hunger... need for light, crave for release...  
  
But no, all alone, no help here...  
  
_"I'm here if you need a new friend..."  
  
_No, no one's there... no one ever has been... Sirius, where are you? Save me, it's cold here... a flicker, over there... That voice, it's close... so comforting, don't fade away...  
  
_"I'm worried about you, Harry..."  
  
_No one... worried? Light, it's there... who' standing there? I can't see it, it's gone, darkness again... who was talking? Oh god I'm slipping... that voice was light... no more voice, no more light... pain, so much pain... can't survive... ripping... torn... gods the pain...!  
  
"**SCREAM FOR ME, FREAK**!" so condesending, no remorse from that voice..._

_never..._

---  
  
Draco shot out of bed, wings spread and breathing all but stopping as he stood poised on his bed. He jumped down, quiet as air, and slipped form his room, wings folding back in place as he rushed across the hall in a blur and opening the door to Harry's room. He was not happy with what greeted him.  
  
Harry was thrashing on the bed, shouting, yelling, and clawing at his forehead desperately. Draco rushed over to the bed, crawling onto it and pinning a struggling Harry down.  
  
"Harry!" Draco said; "Wake up!" when it only made him struggle more, Draco tried a different approach; '_Harry_,' he telepathically sent to Harry, his hand resting to Harry's jaw line; '_Harry, you need to wake up. It's just a dream, you're alright... it's me, Draco_,' he brushed Harry's hair from his face as Harry quit thrashing. 

---  
_Voice? Yes, voice means light, light means salvation from the dark... darkness means pain... voice saves you from the pain... Draco..._  
---

Harry tucked his legs to his chest and arms crossed over his torso, under Draco, and Draco continued to stroke his hair. Harry shuddered, but stilled. His breathing became regular, and Draco sighed.  
  
Then there was a click, and Draco looked over to the door. Snape was standing there, in his bed robes, a blue vial in his left hand. One eyebrow was raised skeptically as he stared at Draco.  
  
Draco glared and mouthed; "Not a word," as Snape walked over.  
  
"What did you do to calm him?" Snape asked, barely a whisper as he opened the vial.  
  
"Soothed him, I guess," Draco replied quietly, his eyes trained on Harry sympathetically; "What's in the vial?"  
  
"Dreamless Sleep Potion," Snape replied; "Here, see if you can give it to him."  
  
"What?" Draco asked, looking at Snape; "Why can't _you_?"  
  
Snape simply motioned to Harry, and Draco looked down at the raven-beauty. One of Harry's hands was clamped firmly to Draco's wrist, as his face contorted into a pained expression again. Draco shushed as he went to stroking Harry's hair again, his other taking the vial from Snape's hand.  
  
Disgusted by the utter romantic-ness of it all, Snape left, closing the door behind him and letting a withheld shiver overtake him. He grimaced, and then went to his room.  
  
---  
  
Draco softly muttered nonsense to Harry, gently shaking him; "Wakey wakey, Harry," he said all too-sweetly when Harry groggily opened his eyes.  
  
"Wha... what the hell?" Harry mumbled, turning his face into the pillow.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and snorted, getting onto the edge of the bed and holding the vial over his head; "Sev says you need to take this..."  
  
"_Fuck Snape_," Harry mumbled into the pillow.  
  
"Ah, Harry, don't ever swing that way," Draco said; "Um...I can't feel my hand!"  
  
Harry looked up, saw that he was still holding Draco's wrist, and quickly let go; "Sorry," he said, blushing.  
  
"It's alright," Draco muttered, waving his hand in the air until the tingling feeling wore off; "Now," he said, turning to Harry; "This, drink. Dreamless Potion. Good for you. Savvy?"  
  
"I'm no child," Harry said, "And what are you doing in my bed?"  
  
"Well, you were in quite a fitful slumber," Draco commented, leaning back on his elbows as Harry sat up; "Yes, you were shouting god knows what, and were clawing at your face," Draco looked at Harry worriedly; "What was it about?"  
  
"...This and that," Harry said, looking away and out the window.  
  
Draco nodded; "Well, you know you're safe here," he said, "I wouldn't want anything to happen to the one person who..." he suddenly stopped, voice trailing off with his realization.  
  
Harry's eyes watched Draco; "Who what?" he asked quietly, turning his head fully to face Draco.  
  
/You dumbass, now look what you did. Malfoys don't do stupid shit like that.../ Draco berated himself, and he cleared his throat as he looked away; "Nothing," he said.  
  
"Oh, come on," Harry said, "I've spilled my heart out to you like a sodding girl, you're turn."  
  
Draco smirked at the comment, but lost the grin when he cleared his throat again; "Just, you're the one person who... who's such a beautiful, mysterious rarity," he finally managed. /Damn it feels good to get that off my chest. Should have thought of that sooner.../  
  
Harry gazed at him, and Draco began to wonder if he was going to get punched. But no, Harry merely stared at him. /Well, was it that shocking? / Draco asked. /Well, I'll make the first move.../  
  
Draco sat up, and crawled over to Harry, who was still sitting there. Soon, Draco was inches from Harry, so close that they felt each other's breath...  
  
---To Be Continued--- ;)  
  
A/N: Oooh, I'm evil!!!!!!! Mwhahaha review to find out! Oh, don't you hate cliffhangers? =smiles wickedly= yes, I do as well, but I have a plan that's going to take time!!!!!! --Boom-Rhapsody 


	5. A Mere Second of Happiness

A/N: hello! Ha-ha, Harry Potter rules completely now!!!!!!!!!! (My other stories in other genres aren't getting near as much) Thank you everybody for reviewing! Yay for me!!!!  
  
I am so sorry this is a late update, but my family and I were in serious need of bonding time, ya know, so we went on vacation. Please don't kill me!!!!!!!!!!!! looks around fearfully at angry mob please, scroll down if you wanna skip the Author's Note! It's there!  
  
Anyway... okay, gang, if you're gonna put me on your Author Alert thing, better tell me. Same for if you put me on favorites, cuz I never check that sector, okay? Pretty-please?  
  
Well, PsychoticDeath, again I must dedicate a chapter to you!!!!! Ha-ha, Halls? My addiction is Altoids at the moment, the peppermint kind... My friend dared me two eat 20, yes 20, spearmint ones at the same time, and I did, stupid me, and since I've been hooked! Lol!!!  
  
Err, Julian Velasquez, read the profile, I'm from Tennessee, okay? If you don't live in the USA, then I'll tell you about my home state. One: there are currently about 6.7 million people living there. Two: there are about 30 surnames. No, kidding, but you caught me on the wrong day. Please guys, my first chapter, I was showing off my literary prowess, as in accordance to my ungodly accent. You guys think I talk this clearly? Hail [ahem, that's how you pronounce "hell" here] no! I'm about as redneck as they come; I just lucked out because my I.Q. is about 135-ish. (Yeah, but my grades in school suck)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, you all know that...  
  
_Previously, in chapter 4...  
  
... "Just, you're the one person who... who's such a beautiful, mysterious rarity," he [Draco] finally managed. /Damn it feels good to get that off my chest. Should have thought of that sooner.../  
  
Harry gazed at him, and Draco began to wonder if he was going to get punched. But no, Harry merely stared at him. /Well, was it that shocking? / Draco asked. /Well, I'll make the first move.../  
  
Draco sat up, and crawled over to Harry, who was still sitting there. Soon, Draco was inches from Harry, so close that they felt each other's breath...  
_  
And now, continuing our story...  
  
**(5)......**  
  
The electric tension between them was there, visibly there in each other's eyes, physically there in their breaths and body heat. The feeling was overwhelming Harry, but he was held back by fear and merciless recognition.  
  
"Draco..." Harry said quietly.  
  
"Tell me you don't feel that," Draco whispered, gazing at Harry's emerald eyes in search of any other emotion. All he could find was longing, regret, sorrow, everything he knew Harry screamed about. No, there seemed to be very little content in the storming orbs, flecked with gold and ringed with silver.  
  
"I... I do... but..." Harry shook his head, and closed his eyes; "Too much," he whispered, covering his eyes with his hands; "No way out..."  
  
Draco's memory flashed back to when Harry zoned out at the Parkinson's Manor; "Harry, I'm desperately trying to comprehend what little you've given me so far," he said, "But please, clarify!"  
  
"Shit's happened, okay?" Harry replied curtly, removing his hands; "Sorry, it's just my head hurts... a lot... and..." he shook his head, covering his face again and resting his head against the pillow.  
  
Draco lay beside him, and sighed as he lay propped himself up on his elbow again. Harry was staring at him, and the emotion-heated gaze, how his eyes seemed to glitter in the grey world of the night, how they seemed to remain green as ever, unnerved Draco somewhat. He knew his eyes were more than likely silvery-blue lamps, but still, it was new.  
  
"You're eyes are beautiful," Harry whispered, while at the same time his mind flashed back to bits of his last lurid dream, the sparse moments that had given him hope.  
  
Draco spared a small smile to him; "Well, your eyes are just as, maybe more," he whispered; "But you still didn't reply to my request."  
  
"Ooh, big words, Malfoy," Harry said, and Draco's eyes narrowed in frustration.  
  
"I'm serious," Draco said, gently poking a bruise on Harry's shoulder, causing Harry to stiffen; "Who did it?"  
  
"I can't trust you," Harry said; "You're insane as it is, and you're acting like we're a couple. If I told you, you would kill all of Surrey... to start with, anyway."  
  
"If I promise, will you tell me?" Draco asked insistently; "On my name as a Malfoy, I swear I won't kill anyone - _yet_."  
  
Harry knew that for a pureblood, swearing on their name was like swearing on their very soul. So, admitting defeat, Harry sighed, and looked at Draco, the same, expressionless look to his face. Yet his eyes seemed to tell the whole story of pain, anger, hatred, and regret.  
  
Draco gazed at the emerald orbs, quickly reading Harry's mind of the incidents by means of telepathy. Harry felt his mind being penetrated, a slight buzzing sensation in the back of his head. Silent and still he waited for Draco to finish.  
  
Draco couldn't even force himself through the first assault, and skipped the majority. He saw beatings, harsh lashings, rape, and so much more... nothing of good character. Everything Harry had endured was out of pure spite, and what shocked Draco the most was when he saw it had been going on for much, much longer. Since Harry was seven, when he was punished to brutally by Vernon (who had then found that the beatings were a fine form of stress relief), and since to now. And Dudley had only gotten Harry this summer, meaning it was still fresh to his psyche.  
  
Harry closed his eyes as another headache came, and at that Draco gave in and released his mental hold; "Oh, Harry," he said compassionately; "I had no idea! We were all under the impression that..."  
  
"I was happy?" Harry asked; "Yeah, Dumbledore's a lying bastard, isn't he?"  
  
Draco hung his head; "Sabet knew you were dark," he said quietly, lifting his head and gazing at Harry despairingly; "He... he was telling us before... of someone who would come to our race already burdened. Harry, I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner..."  
  
/Wait, Draco admitting that he's sorry? / Harry thought. /Wow, he does care.../  
  
"I'm just glad to be out," Harry said, shivering.  
  
Draco embraced him, more friendly and comforting. Harry snuggled into his shoulder, heaving a sigh. Draco looked at him, inwardly groaning as he looked up pleadingly. /God, don't make this torture last long/ Draco thought.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, breathing in Draco's scent of vanilla and lavender. Draco willed his eyes to close, arms wrapped around Harry protectively.  
  
/I could get used to this/ both thought.  
  
And then both pairs of eyes snapped open to gaze at each other.  
  
---  
  
Draco woke up, eyes caked with sleep. He rubbed them gingerly, then looked around. His eyes fell almost instantly on the still sleeping Harry, still huddled against him. Draco smirked, then, in one swift, fluid motion, got up, not waking the raven-haired vampire. Draco looked at Harry, watching as he muttered something and rolled over, one arm slinging over the side of the bed. Draco also noticed his black, right wing was splayed across the pillows, while his left was still beneath his body. This made Draco flex his wings before securely tucking them away.  
  
With a final glance to Harry, Draco quietly exited the room, before gliding down the steps, and down to the lower hall. Draco ran, jumped, and slid along the wooden floor on a rug, coming to a skidding halt in front of the kitchen.  
  
"What's for breakfast, Sev?" Draco asked, but found that the kitchen was empty. Draco looked around, before spotting a piece of parchment on the table. Draco picked it up, and quickly read...  
  
Draco,  
  
I've been called away on business. I will return by evening, and I expect for NOTHING to be tarnished, or otherwise broken. Also, only leave the house if you absolutely have to. Minister Weasley has issued a search for Harry, and all I'm willing to say is that they might stop by.  
Don't get into trouble,  
Severus  
  
Draco snorted as he dropped the parchment and set it on fire, watching the ashes fall to the ground and disappear. He then crossed his arms in thought. /Oh shit/ he thought. /I don't know how to cook anything! Oh shit, I'll starve! /  
  
Draco whined as he looked around, tugging at his hair. He was about to call for help when he heard someone coming down the steps; "Harry! Hurry, quick!" Draco shouted desperately, and in an blur, Harry was in the doorway.  
  
"What?!" he asked, looking around as he walked over to Draco quickly.  
  
"Uncle Sev left and he didn't cook us breakfast!" Draco whined; "We'll _starve_!!!!"  
  
Harry froze, and slowly turned to face Draco; "What?" Draco asked childishly at Harry's incredulous look; "I've never had to cook breakfast!" Draco protested.  
  
Harry shook his head; "Calm down, spoiled brat, sit down," he said kindly, ushering Draco over to the table and setting him down.  
  
Draco stuck out his bottom lip and crossed his arms and leg as he pouted, but quickly lost interest in such when he became mesmerized by Harry's fluid, graceful movements around the kitchen. Even in such a simple task as this, he was overwhelming. Draco fought back the urge to jump up and ravish Harry then and there, but after what he had seen last night, he shoved the lust down where it belonged.  
  
The smell of eggs frying, and bacon sizzling brought Draco out of his trance, and he got up curiously to see what Harry was doing by the stove. Draco walked over, peering over Harry's shoulder (though it called for Draco to stand on his tiptoes slightly, height difference, you know).  
  
"Oh, so _that's_ how Muggles do it," Draco mused, watching as Harry flipped the eggs with a spatula and the works.  
  
"Well, how else would you cook... oh, never mind," Harry said, rolling his eyes; "I'm talking to the richest wizard in all of Britain. Do you even know where your clothing goes when it gets dirty?" he asked, looking at Draco.  
  
Draco innocently shook his head; "Should I?" he asked.  
  
Again, Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
"Just sit down and relax. Breakfast will be ready in a second."  
  
Draco did as he was bidden, though of course smugly. He'd never admit subservience, at least not yet  
  
---

The next two weeks were devoted entirely to Harry becoming more accustomed with his birthright. They would sneak off to the forests and fields outside of town, most often times at night, and there they would practice flying. Harry and Draco also perfected their Occulemcy, as well as telepathy. And in time, they had grown closer.  
  
But burdens are deep, Draco knew that.  
  
Harry slowly admitted to himself, and quickly confirmed that he was not a Gryffindor at heart like he had been told. During a quick session of "Find-the-Blonde", a hide-n-seek type of game created by Draco, it was revealed that Harry was cunning and ruthless, perfect Slytherin qualities. Though he still retained his stubbornness.  
  
"No, I won't. Drake, you can't make me..."  
  
"Ah, come on, Harry..."  
  
"NO!!!"  
  
"YES!"  
  
"I won't!!!"  
  
"You will! You want to know if you're ready, don't you? And since you're a new vampire, you have to feed anyway! We move out at sunset!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Harry, if you don't, I won't complete my duties, meaning Sabet will be mad at me. And trust me; you don't want that vampire mad at you. Please?"  
  
Harry looked over at Draco, matching his stern gaze with an arrogant one of his own. Harry was fine, he didn't want to go out in the open just yet, what with seemingly every other wizard searching for him. IF he was spotted, he could put Snape and Draco in jeopardy. But again Draco was begging. Harry felt all of his walls come down at the almost pitiful sight of it.  
  
"Fine," Harry replied brazenly, looking away.  
  
They were in one of the fields, atop a hill that overlooked the small community of Hogsmead. It was a quaint, peaceful picturesque, what one might find on the back of a postcard. Harry was going to live here, he had decided, after everything was done and he could live a normal life...  
  
Harry sighed. It would be a miracle if her survived to graduate Hogwarts. Hell, it would be a miracle if he survived the year. God, then he'd have to go back to a place he didn't want to...  
  
"Ah, _Harry_," Draco said, "Where are you? Don't zone out again!"  
  
Harry snapped out of his thoughts, and looked at Draco; "Sorry," he said, "I was just thinking..."  
  
"Oh, when has _that_ ever been a safe idea," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. His gaze traveled to the small village below; "I'm going to live here one day," he said quietly; "So peaceful, closed off... make a nice place to raise children, wouldn't you think?"  
  
/Where in the hell is he going with this? / Harry thought, but he looked out at the village and replied; "I suppose... but, children are annoying..."  
  
"Oh, and what kids have you been around besides first years?" Draco asked, smirking.  
  
Harry shrugged; "Exactly," he said.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes; "You're a mystery," he said.  
  
"Hey, at least I'm a 'beautiful' one," Harry said, looking over at Draco lazily.  
  
Draco rolled on his side, and sternly looked at Harry; "Okay," he said, "If anyone finds out about me not being under the whole 'Malfoy-Ice-Prince-of-Slytherin' persona, I'll lose my reputation, okay?"  
  
"Hey, who will I tell?" Harry asked, looking at him apathetically.  
  
Draco nodded; "Glad to see we're on the same level," he said.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and sat up; "What's wrong?" Draco asked.  
  
/He's been asking that a lot lately/ Harry thought, crossing his arms over his legs as he drew up his knees and rested his chin between them; "Nothing," Harry replied quietly.  
  
Draco sat up, and scooted over to him; "I know what could make you feel better," he said, looking at Harry innocently.  
  
Harry looked at him, before rolling his eyes at Draco's expression. Lower lip stuck out, eyes wide with suppressed sympathy and a hint of want, and hands clasped under his chin. He looked like a seven-year-old begging for candy. His gaze couldn't even be willed to not soft at the pathetic look, so Harry merely looked away.  
  
"No," Harry said finally, smirking at Draco.  
  
Draco, looking dejected, turned and gazed out in front of them, surveying the fields.  
  
"Sorry, Draco," Harry said almost immediately.  
  
/It gets him every time/ Draco thought, inwardly smirking as he kept up his hurt persona.  
  
"It's okay," Draco said, looking at him.  
  
Harry suddenly couldn't hold it in, and burst out laughing. He fell onto his back again, holding his sides as the unfamiliar feeling came t o him and the even odder sound came from his lips.  
  
"What?" Draco asked, suddenly incensed at being laughed at. He hated being laughed at, next to being ignored; "What the hell is so funny!"  
  
"You...you're face...priceless!" Harry managed through gasps of air as he sat up again. Harry sighed and calmed, then said; "Whoa, that was... weird..."  
  
Draco looked at him oddly; "Laughing?" he asked, and Harry nodded; "Oh, come on, Harry! You mean you haven't laughed at all?"  
  
Harry looked away; "Well, suppose we'll have to change that!" Draco said, jumping and pinning Harry to the ground as he ensued on tackling the poor raven-haired vampire.  
  
Harry burst out laughing, writhing and "trying" to fight Draco off. But he loved the feeling of happiness, and Draco knew that's what Harry wanted. His hands ran over Harry's sides, and Harry was near tears, had he any left to shed. Draco, who was raised to notice even the slightest oddity about a person, noticed this as well. He would probably bruise when he was done, and Harry hadn't shed a single tear.  
  
Draco stopped, sitting on Harry's torso (eliciting an "oof!" from Harry) as he did. Harry opened his eyes with a slight smile, but it quickly faded; "what?" he asked, looking at Draco.  
  
"You don't cry," Draco mused, leaning down until they were merely inches away.  
  
"So?" Harry asked a little brusquely, feeling his walls going up almost immediately.  
  
Draco shrugged; "It helps to cry," he said.  
  
"There's nothing worth crying over," Harry said, sitting up with Draco sliding into his lap.  
  
"You've got plenty of reasons," Draco said poignantly.  
  
"I've quit crying, for your information," Harry said; "Crying does nothing."  
  
Draco was silent; "You cry at night," he said quietly, "While you sleep, or after, when you wake up..."  
  
"And how would I know that, Stalker?"  
  
"Because, damnit, I can hear your cries, and sense your anguish!" Draco said, "So don't be so closed off. I'm a vampire too, and therefore I can sense certain things from you. Pain, mostly, and that draws me to comfort you. So except it, from here on out, you will get help, Harry. It's apparent those Gryffindorks barred you from them and ignored you, but I'm not trying to, okay? I want to help you..." he added desperately.  
  
Harry looked into the blue eyes, sifting and finding Draco's true emotions and feelings. Draco allowed it, the tingling feeling at the back of his head becoming annoying after a few seconds. Harry let go, and stared at Draco, who stared back.  
  
"I do," Draco replied quietly, bowing his head and closing his eyes, feeling defeated.  
  
Harry's heart softened, and his gaze did as well. Lifting Draco's head up with his hand, he closed his own eyes, and closed the gap. Their lips met, and Draco almost buckled under. Harry leaned back, taking Draco's shoulders and pulling him down with him.  
  
When Harry's back hit the grass, his tongue glided across Draco's lips. Draco planted his hands on the grass, parting his mouth. Harry's tongue tentatively entered Draco's mouth, and Draco did the same. One of the blonde's hands went to the side of Harry's head, gently taking a handful of hair and moving the other vampire's head for a better angle. The two became engrossed in the other, Harry's hands going to Draco's waist as Draco's free hand ran down his chest. Harry shivered, and Draco smirked as he deepened the kiss.  
  
"_Oh my god!_ Mr. Weasley, I found him!"  
  
_A/N_: sorry this was late again, and I apologize even more for the cliffhanger. But ooh, at least Draco and Harry kissed, right? Please don't shoot! holds hands up as mob encroaches RUN AWAY!!!!!!!!!!


	6. Moments of Delerium and Suspiscion

**A/N:** hello all! I now have a body guard, PsychoticDeath, thank you for fighting back the mob; they ran from you out of fear. They were shouting a "crazy friend of the hick writer's" bit, or something or other.  
  
YAY!!!!! Over 50 reviews!!!!!!! Thanks to you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Also, I am so so so so _so_ sorry for the late update. I went to ACC, or Camp. IT was a lot of fun, but by the fourth day I was worried you all would hate me. So sorry again!!!!!  
  
Is a 135 IQ smart? That's a shocker, I'm a** total** idiot. Seriously, ask any of my friends, they'll vouch for me.  
  
Um, what's BTW mean? I'm afraid I don't know that one, bit too deep in the holler, ya know. (For those that don't know, "holler" is the hick term for "hollow", which is that little gap between mountains. Understood, neh?)  
  
Thanks for all the reviews!!!!! I feel so loved!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: you know what, I'm tired of putting this thing up. I OWN NOTHING  
  
And so on...  
  
**6......**  
  
_"Oh my God! Mr. Weasley, I found him!"_  
  
The loud, shrill feminine voice made Harry freeze and caused his eyes to snap open, and Draco froze as well, both separated slowly, Draco allowing Harry to sit up though he wouldn't get off Harry's lap. And Harry didn't want him to; he wanted to see the look on her face.  
  
And Hermione Granger was horrified and uncomfortable. She hadn't fully believed Ron when he returned to the burrow with his brothers and told her about confronting Harry and how they had broken their friendship in two, but now, she was certain. And she was disgusted to say the least.  
  
"Granger," Draco said, being the first to recover from the surprise and silence. He gracefully rose, helping Harry up as well; "Well love, sorry that was interrupted," he said kindly to Harry.  
  
"'S alright, Drake," Harry said, smiling. But his gaze hardened when he looked at Hermione; "What are you doing here?"  
  
"L-looking for y-you, Ha-Harry," Hermione stuttered, fearing his gaze, yet not even willing her eyes to look away from his. They were so cold, so different, so... remarkably colored, and it seemed to haunt her.  
  
Where was_ her_ Harry?  
  
Hermione froze as Harry read her mind. Draco watched on as Harry's face seemed blank, then twisted into a malevolent look of hate and disgust.  
  
"Harry?" Draco asked, touching Harry on the arm.  
  
Harry shook his head, and as he walked away, Hermione snapped back to reality, and fell to her knees.  
  
"Oh, _get over yourself_, mudblood," Draco sneered, before going after Harry.  
  
Harry was furious. Hermione had _betrayed_ him, Ron as well. They had been his friends only because Dumbledore had _told_ them to be. Ron had been_ told_ to befriend Harry, to _tell_ him that Slytherins were bad and he was best fit for Gryffindor. But why tell him that?  
  
Harry was too busy examining Hermione's memories, ones he had remembered from reading her mind. He saw her receiving the letter with her Hogwarts invitation, and remembered her being told to purposefully bump into Ron and him.  
  
_Ron_... Harry gritted his teeth as he went down the hill, sliding in the bare spots. He heard shouts, wizards calling out that they had spotted him. He also heard Draco call after him, and Harry stopped to turn and wait for the blonde. Draco came at a quit run down the hill, easily at his side.  
  
"Harry, what's—" Draco began, but was cut off as "Patrificus Totalus!" rang through the air, carried in unison by three voices.  
  
Both Harry and Draco barely avoided the three spells, and Harry looked to see the wielders had been Hermione, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Tonks.  
  
"We've got to go find Sev!" Draco said as Harry took his arm and they ran down the hill before jumping over the fence and onto the path. The dodged two more hexes.  
  
"Get off of him, Malfoy!" Tonks shouted.  
  
"I'm with him, you idiot!" Draco shouted irately, stopping and turning on his heel in fury. Harry abruptly came to a halt as well, and pulled Draco to run with him.  
  
"Draco, not now!" Harry said, and that was enough to get Draco to run.  
  
Sadly, the vampires didn't get far before they were ambushed. Author Weasley, as well as four other Aurors, appeared at the bend of the path. Harry and Draco stopped, turned, but Tonks and the others were at the end, along with two new wizards. Harry and Draco stood back to back as the Aurors and Minister approached, Harry facing Author and Draco the other way.  
  
Draco's eyes were darting everywhere, there was no way out but up. And flying was out of the option, no one could know what he and Harry were.  
  
"Let's just fly away," Harry whispered urgently, finding their position and beginning to get edgy; "Up and away, never look back. How does France sound?"  
  
"We can't fly and you're supposed to be the bloody Gryffindor here," Draco replied through gritted teeth.  
  
Author Weasley came up, stopping ten feet from the vampires. "Harry," he said, smiling kindly; "We're so glad we found you. When we heard you had run away from the Leaky Cauldron, I—"  
  
"Shove it, Author," Harry spat, quickly reading the man's mind before he could react. Author was faking it; this was an act to woo Harry into a false sense of security. /No/ Harry thought /I won't fall for it/  
  
The Aurors gasped; "Harry, _honestly_—!" Hermione began.  
  
"Shut up, Granger!" Draco snapped; "You've no say in this matter, none of you do! This is between Harry and the Minister!" he looked around the forming circle warningly, just daring one of them to try anything.  
  
"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," Author said; "Now, Harry, I'd like to talk to you about living arrangements and of course you running away..."  
  
"I'm happy here," Harry said, "Happier than I've ever been. Snape's a nice man, given the chance. Draco too, they've both treated me better than anyone here."  
  
More gasps and Draco rolled his eyes. /They have no right to be surprised/ he thought /no right at all/  
  
"Harry," Author said, "After my family and I welcomed you into our home, kept you warm and gave you a family—"  
  
"Oh yes, and for what?" Harry asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the new Minister; "You sicken me, every single one of you! You took me in because Dumbledore told you too!" he looked at Hermione; "And you were my friend because you got a letter telling you to;" Hermione gasped as he looked back heatedly at Author; "I don't care what you said, I know now. I was manipulated, put through a bloody hell all my life, just so some old coot could mold me easily. Do you know how much power I've got, that he's suppressed? I'm done being the '_Wonder Boy'_. I'll fight Voldermort—_oh gods it's just a name_—!" he added at the gasps, "—but other than that, I don't want anything to do with any of you. And when I do kill him, it won't be for the wizarding world, it will be for my parents, for Sirius, for anyone who was hurt over the past two decades. I won't kill him for a cause, I'll kill him out of loss..." he let the words hang in the air like a permeating mist, letting each and every syllable sink into each person's mind.  
  
Draco had taken Harry's hand during the speech, and squeezed it reassuringly. Harry looked at him and smiled briefly, then turned to Author. The minister was shocked, to put it simply, but he quickly recovered.  
  
"It's obvious you've been through a lot of trauma, Harry," he said calmly; "Please, I can help you."  
  
"You want to help me?" Harry asked; "Leave me alone. Don't you get it yet? I want a moment where I'm not under the light. I want a moment where I'm alone with no one watching. I want to be my own person freely, not behind closed doors," he held his hand, which was clasped firmly around Draco's, up slightly, enough for everyone to see.  
  
Draco's face was clear, blank of any smirk. His eyes were fixed lovingly on Harry, and he nodded slightly. Harry looked at him and smiled slightly, then again faced Author; "You know I'll fight Voldermort, I have no choice at this rate. But—"  
  
"_**That is enough**_!!!!"  
  
Harry and Draco, as well as everyone else, turned to see Snape walking down another path from his home, fuming. /oh shit/ Draco thought /Oh shit oh shit oh _bloody_** fucking** shit!!!!!/  
  
"_Minister_, what is the meaning of this?" Snape asked, confronting Author openly.  
  
"Severus, I and my team are here to collect Harry Potter," Author said firmly.  
  
"Author," Severus said in a low, quite voice, "I need to speak to you about Ha— the boy. Alone," he added, casting glances at the two Aurors flanking Author.  
  
Author studied him; "Very well," Author said; "But, I want Harry to—"  
  
"I must urge you not to push Harry too far," Snape said; "Draco shall not be bothered as well; he's under my care therefore any harassment he endures I will hold you personally responsible."  
  
Again Author was silent as he thought; "Fine," He said finally; "We will be waiting at your home," and with a wave of his hands, there was a loud assortment of pops, snaps, and cracks, then the Aurors were gone, Tonks having taken Hermione with her.  
  
Draco and Harry sighed, Draco leaning against a stiff Harry. Harry was rigid with anger and inner turmoil, his free hand clenching and unclenching in a fist as he tried to sort his thoughts. Draco watched him worriedly, turning to watch as Snape walked over to them.  
  
"Each morning I have said to not leave the house," Snape said; "And you go back against my word anyway. What could have happened, Draco, if Author had not been around and an Auror caught you two together doing god knows what? You could have been _killed_, Draco."  
  
"Please, Severus," Draco said, "We can take care of ourselves."  
  
"Well, be that as it may..." Snape began, but his attention was drawn elsewhere; "Harry?" he asked, his eyes drifting to the other teen.  
  
Harry was glaring at the ground; "_It's all been a lie_," he said quietly, looking up; "My entire life. I could have been adopted into a wizarding family, had a normal childhood, grown up knowing who and what I was. But I had to endure torture and anguish, and I was so clueless that I took in everything that could tell me anything at all. Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, they all received letters from Dumbledore... they all were told to befriend me..." he looked away darkly; "I can never forgive any of them."  
  
Snape stood there, numb with shock; "Harry, perhaps you should rest," he said slowly; "Come," he said, ushering them other.  
  
Draco walked over, and Snape placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry walked over as well, and Snape did the same. And, with a crack, they were all transported to Snape's home.  
  
---  
  
The three came to the kitchen, and Snape turned to face them; "Stay here," he said; "I mean it. Stay in the kitchen, no matter what anyone tells you. This will be sorted out, I promise;" and with that, Snape turned and left down the hallway, where the vampires could pick up whispering...  
  
_"Letters? Hermione, wot letters?"  
  
"I... oh, Tonks, I'm worried!"  
  
"He's happier here, with his arch rival? It's too confusing, Kingsley!"  
  
"I know, Digalus, I know. But you know things change. Hell, it was you and I who rescued the Malfoy boy from that manor and brought him here in the first place...!"  
  
"Author, what was the boy saying? What does Dumbledore have to do with this?"  
_  
...Harry blocked the whispers off, groaning as he sat down. Draco sat in his lap gingerly, stoking Harry's hair. Harry moaned sadly and rested his head against Draco's shoulder, and Draco continued his soothing ministrations.  
  
"Sev'll fix things, love," Draco said, sighing, "He always does, and always will, don't worry."  
  
"I've no reason to," Harry replied quietly, leaning into the comforting motions; "I won't fall for anything anymore..."  
  
Draco looked at Harry sympathetically, and wrapped his other arm around him reassuringly.  
  
---  
  
Author had selected the three Order Members, and Snape, to stay, dismissing the rest. They now sat in Snape's living room, and Snape was at the door.  
  
"Author," he said, thumbing behind him as he headed for the sitting room opposite the foyer.  
  
Author followed him, and as soon as they were alone, Snape began to irately tell him; "I don't know what you were thinking, coming in and disrupting my home without consent, let alone possibly angering the boy into two weeks of lost help—"  
  
"Wait, help?" Author said, "What, are you talking about Harry?"  
  
"Yes, of course I am!" Snape exclaimed, fuming; "The boy came to my house late one night, disheveled, unkempt, scrawny, _beaten_, emotionally unstable. Draco, surprisingly, has been helping Harry get back on his feet! I haven't told anyone Harry's been here because being thrown back into the Order and having to face our world would send him back into that hellish depression!" by now Snape was waving his hands in the air as he paced the room; "Author, those Muggles have done something horrible and vile to him! Draco knows, but he won't say because it would break this truce he and Harry have!"  
  
"Hermione found them _kissing_!" Author said; "And while that isn't exactly an awful thing, I think they have more than a _truc_e at this point."  
  
"Who gives a hell about Harry's sexuality?" Snape asked; "He's finding things out, Author, things even I don't know about. This could change things dramatically if he uncovers something nasty."  
  
Author crossed his arms, and looked around the room as he thought; "Severus, Harry cannot stay here, and you know it."  
  
"I know this might be hard for you to digest, Author, but I am _worried_ about Harry's well-being," Snape said; "And in these times, we don't want the only man capable of defeating the Dark Lord to fall off the edge and go crazy. If Harry went insane, You-Know-Who would be the least of our worries."  
  
Author stood there in silence, watching Snape in thought; "There is just no way around it, Severus!" he finally said; "Dumbledore wanted me to find Harry, and make sure he was safe."  
  
"And I can assure you, he is," Snape said; "He is safer here than at that Muggle house, you yourself have seen what they do to him."  
  
Author nodded; "And what does Dumbledore want out of this?" Snape asked; "This is war, Author, and the only thing the old man cares about is winning, and gaining power. To hell if Harry dies inwardly, as long as he is kept alive for the battle front. You know that's true, Author."  
  
"_**Liar**_!" Author said, glaring at Snape; "How dare you talk about Albus in such a way!"  
  
"Are you in love with him?" Snape asked, smirking; "There are many differences between Albus and Tom Riddle, one being Dumbledore doesn't ask for you to get a tattoo, more just your loyalty to the death. Hmm," he mused; "Suppose both want the same thing."  
  
"Traitor," Author said; "I should have you thrown in Azkaban!"  
  
"And why, Author?" Snape asked coolly; "I have not gone Dark, those days are over. I am merely stating a few observations, one being Dumbledore's manipulating us all."  
  
"Oh, and how would you come to that?" Author asked insolently.  
  
Snape eyed him with a glare; "Just look at Harry," he said, "The lad could have had a normal life, his parents knew plenty of others who would take him in. And Sirius, though I hate to admit it, didn't have to go to prison when Albus knew he was innocent. If the old man is so powerful, then why didn't he get Sirius out? Do you know how many sleepless dream potions I've gone through?"  
  
Author shook his head; "Seventeen," Snape replied bluntly; "And the three extra were just to get Harry to calm down. He never asked for this, and Dumbledore could have made it easier. But no, he's planning something, Author, and we could get hurt. Harry's already exceeded his damage limit as it is, one more punch and he will be lost. If Dumbledore was so caring and understanding, then why did he let it get so far? Isn't he supposed to know everything?"  
  
Author stood there, shaking with fury and shock; "I cannot believe you have the gall to say that," he finally managed; "I should have you thrown in—"  
  
"Azkaban, yes, yes, you've covered that already," Snape said, idly waving his hand; "Point is, Author, Harry should remain here until school starts. I will escort him myself."  
  
---  
  
Harry and Draco listened to the argument, their ears picking it up more than those in the Living room. Harry sighed and shifted, half-asleep and with a lap full of blonde. Draco didn't mind, he liked it. The silent thanks Harry was giving with the furtive glances of contempt was enough to let Draco know he was needed.  
  
"What did you see?" Draco asked quietly, quitting stroking Harry's hair.  
  
Harry sighed, lifting his head as he looked at Draco. Draco knew that gaze; it was the "go ahead" look. Draco sighed; "I want you to tell me," he said quietly.  
  
Harry looked away darkly; "Hermione got a letter telling her to be friends with me, and she met up with Hagrid and the Weasleys to discuss it. I'm surprised that Hagrid said, at the meeting Hermione had to go to, that he would save me because he was ashamed to see what had happened to the Potters' son, after all they had done this was the least they could do.  
  
"Ron was supposed to meet me on the train then, and tell me how bad Slytherins were..." he shook his head and looked at Draco apathetically; "That's what gets me, why would Dumbledore want me thinking that?"  
  
Draco shrugged; "It might be because well, you are Slytherin," he said finally after thought, "And, the Savior of the Wizarding world is supposed to be brave, which we snakes are definitely not. Besides, it could have a good deal to do with this—" he tapped Harry's scar.  
  
---  
  
"You expect me to leave him here with you _Slytherins_?" Author thought; "And when_ you_ are a _Death Eater?_"  
  
"_FORMER _Death Eater!" Snape said loudly; "I put my life on the line just so that slimy bastard will fall down, even if it means siding with Dumbledore!!! Admit it, Author, after the Triwizard incident the man has become even _odder_ than he already is!"  
  
"**SHUT UP**!" Author roared. The outburst left the normally quiet and soft - spoken man visibly shaking, and Author sat down in an arm chair.  
  
"And how could you base your dislike of the situation on the house I was in and now currently Head?" Snape said, walking up to Author; "You and I both know that _Harry_ is a Slytherin at heart."  
  
"No, lie," Author said, getting up. Snape took a step back as the man glowered at him.  
  
"Then put me under the Truth potion [A/N: wazzit called again?]," Snape said; "Put us all under it. Read our minds," he added jokingly; "Oh, Author, you're still sensitive to everything, aren't you? Open your eyes, Dumbledore is up to something, and it all started with..."  
  
"Do **not** continue that or I will put you away," Author hissed, eyes narrowing; "For Harry's sake, he can stay here. But I will be sending someone here regularly to check on things."  
  
"What, like I would kill him," Snape said; "Harry's in turmoil now, and if Draco cares for him, then I do as well. Not in that way, though, no," he said at Author's scrutinizing look; "Fatherly, you oddity."  
  
Author eyed him suspiciously, and then pushed past the Potions Master as he left the room. The Minister walked into the living room, looking at the three Order Members.  
  
"We're leaving," Author said, and with a crack, he was gone.  
  
Tonks took a now bawling Hermione with her, and Kingsley slowly rose. He waited as Snape came into the room, looking smug; "Should I—" Kinglsey began.  
  
"Tell Remus that I'm watching over Harry," Snape said nodding; "He may visit, if he must."  
  
Kingsley nodded, and then Disasperated. Snape sighed, then sat down on the sofa to contemplate his next plan of action.  
  
---  
  
Harry went cross-eyed when Draco tapped his forehead, and glared at the blonde when the other vampire laughed silently.  
  
"What does my scar have to do with any of this?" Harry asked, gaze softening.  
  
Draco shrugged; "Well, it's obvious," he said flatly; "There's more to it than they let on. It is more than a scar, and they, the Order, know just how serious it is. But, it would affect you somehow that wouldn't benefit them, so they won't say what the significance of your scar is..." he shrugged again.  
  
"And people say Blondes are dumb," Harry said, smirking.  
  
"Why, thank you," Draco said suavely, brushing his hair back and holding his head up.  
  
Harry chuckled, getting up and making Draco move to sitting on the table. He was troubled again, the look of indecision an betrayal evident on his fine features. Draco watched Harry as the other vampire walked around the kitchen, occasionally pausing when they heard talking, but it was idle gossip over Harry.  
  
"Will it end?" Draco asked quietly.  
  
Harry stopped, and turned his head to look at Draco; "Chances are, it will when we all die," he said.

Draco slowly got up, and walked over to Harry. He wrapped his arms around the other vampire, and Harry leaned into the embrace. He turned around, wrapping his arms around Draco and pulling him close. Draco breathed in the scent he had grown to love even more. Harry lifted Draco's chin up and their eyes met.

The watery pools of crystal ice had Harry transfixed, and the vampire leaned down to kiss his prize. Draco closed his eyes as their lips met, melting to the warm contact. Harry pulled the blonde even closer as his tongue was granted entrance, and began the soft, gentle battle for dominance with the other's. Draco pressed Harry against the wall, taking the raven-haired youth's wandering hands and pinning them to the wall. Draco grinned through the heated kiss and pressed his groin against Harry's, grinding just enough to cause Harry to groan. But Harry went rigid as harsh memories ran through his head.

Draco stopped, pulling away and looking at Harry. The other vampire's eyes were now tightly shut as he fought the onsluaght. Draco mentally berated himself as he soothed the Raven-haired beauty by embracing him and planting soft kisses on his neck. Harry relaxed slightly, willing the memories away. /This is Draco, Harry, he isn't trying to hurt you/ he thought /You've wanted this.../

So what stopped him?................

..........................................

..................They both knew.

A/N: There ya go!!!! Wanna kill me now? Ha-ha, until again!!!! 


	7. Fortuitous Euphora and Another's Knowing

A/N: ok, Computer was being a stupid bitch and had the whole "Arthur- Author" thing on auto-correct for some dumbass reason. Can you tell I was upset when I found that damn mistake? Anyway, I fixed it.  
  
Memo to readers... I'M AMERICAN, SO BRITISH JUST ISN'T A STRONG POINT BUT I DO TRY MY VERY BEST!!!  
  
Oh yeah, past the 70 mark!!!!!!! I might get over 100 reviews by the time this story's done!!!!  
  
Thanks everyone for answering my question!!!!!  
  
DemonRogue13... how's it? Thanks for reviewing!!!!!!! Yay, an old friend!!!!  
  
Um, **LL**, yes, rape is rather dark, for you see... my cousin, his step-brother raped him several times. My cousin committed suicide too a week after he told me. Please don't just run your mouth like that, it hurt. How could being taken brutally without your consent not be dark? And besides, there is more than just the rape that makes Harry like that. If you read ahead, and I'm trying my best to be civil, you'd find a lot more things out. Also, the reasons of Harry's actions you listed go deeper than fear and trivial annoyance. Honestly, dark little boxes are fun and all but you really need to get out of your dark little box and take in some intelligence. Plus, everyone has weaknesses, be it small ones, or ones that go deep. You're not perfect, I'm not perfect, and damn in this story Harry sure isn't perfect. No one's perfect. Except God— but anyway, don't deny that.  
  
But who am I kidding; you might just be one of the lucky, sheltered few who don't get out into the REAL WORLD much. Lucky...  
  
But thank-you all the same for reviewing. It helped me!  
  
Um, oh yeah... Chapter one during the first bit, I meant Dudley, not Draco. Nuther typo my bad.  
  
{Author's notes}  
  
TR: DO I OWN THIS STORY?  
  
Mob: UH... NO!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
_Random idiot_: Maybe...?  
  
Mob: SHE DON'T OWN NUTHIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
TR: {rolls eyes at idiot): [shut up Steve] Okay, nuff said.  
  
Final note =/projected thoughts or telepathy/=  
  
_Old Chinese guy in crowd:_ One more thing!!!! Wahning, mooshy gooshy love scene ah-head!!!!!!!!! Read or skeep, it's your choice!!!!  
  
**7......  
**  
Draco looked at Harry, pulling away; "Harry, I..." Draco began.  
  
"No, it's me," Harry said, gently pushing Draco away and leaving. Draco heard Harry go up the steps. With a sigh, Draco thought whether or not to follow. In the end, he went up the steps, and quietly to the door that had been left ajar. Harry had thrown himself onto his bed, looking like a dead body slung lopsidedly onto a gurney. Draco watched as Harry sighed, and he slowly made his way over, closing the door behind him.  
  
"Harry," Draco said quietly, dropping down beside his boyfriend; "Please," he whispered, leaning over him when Harry rolled over. Draco wrapped and arm around Harry and rolled him back over, so they were facing each other. Again the emerald eyes were glazing over. Draco looked at them, gazing into them; "He can't hurt you anymore," he whispered; "None of those damn Muggles can..." he stroked Harry's bangs.  
  
As much as his heart protested, Harry moved his head to the side, stopping Draco's action; "I'm weak," he said; "I've been beaten my whole life, surely... you'd think I could handle _it_..." he bit his lower lip.  
  
"Listen," Draco said, "Harry, look at me," he said firmly, and Harry looked up at him; "Repeat after me. I-am-Safe..."  
  
"I am safe," Harry repeated slowly, closing his eyes and sighing; "I know I am Draco," he said quietly, looking up at he blonde through morbid, hooded eyes; "But, to see it... to... _have it_..." he cringed and turned away, "You feel like... no matter what you do... you'll..."  
  
"Never be clean again," Draco finished quietly, nodding as he bit his lower lip; "I... I know... Harry..." he said, looking away briefly. He was silent.  
  
"What?" Harry asked quietly.  
  
"I..." Draco began; "We need to get you prepared for tonight."  
  
"Tonight?" Harry repeated quizzically.  
  
"Well, I'm feeling famished," Draco said, "And, you're a new vampire so it should be taking affect on you soon as well."  
  
Harry nodded. The almost animalistic crave he was feeling the night he fed on Dudley was becoming fresh in the back of his mind. Draco watched him as he thought, and nodded.  
  
"We'll leave at sunset," the blonde said quietly; "Like I said."  
  
Harry huffed and turned away again; "What if I want to just get it over with now?" he asked childishly.  
  
Draco scowled, but the smirked; "Well, aren't we eager..."  
  
Harry smiled, the first genuine smile Draco had seen in a few days. He looked so gorgeous.  
  
"You're beautiful," Draco mused, gently tracing Harry's jaw line with his index finger.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, longing for Draco's touch. As Draco took his hand away, Harry opened his eyes and stared at the blonde. Draco stared intently back, want in his crystalline eyes. =/I love you/= Draco thought, projecting it to Harry. Harry caught the message, and stared at Draco in surprise.  
  
/He loves me/ Harry thought, astonished. He then studied Draco, picking up on how he had said/thought the three words, and how he had seemed within and without. Satisfied by his findings, Harry thought =/You mean it? /=  
  
=/Words cannot express/=  
  
=/ if I didn't know you this well I'd say we were moving too fast.../=  
  
=/But, dear Harry, we have all the time in the world.../=  
  
Then there was silence. The vampires merely studied and gazed at each other. /this is love/ Harry thought, regarding the feeling of ease and contentment of being around Draco. He felt safe and together. He was... happy. /Happy/ Harry repeated. =/Draco, I... love you too.../=  
  
Closing his eyes, Harry's hand wrapped around Draco's neck, and Harry pulled the blonde into a kiss. Draco was caught off guard by the suddenness, but closed his eyes as he leaned over Harry completely. Draco ran his tongue over Harry's bottom lip, and gained access to his mouth. Tongues dueled as clothing was ripped array, soon leaving Harry naked and Draco only in his boxers. After a moment of staring, kissing resumed and hands roamed.  
  
Harry groaned as Draco straddled him, erections rubbing against each other through Draco's boxers. Draco kissed along Harry's neck and the crook of it, and then moved to his collar bone. Harry moaned, hands pulling at the boxer waistband before ripping them off.  
  
Draco paused, and then his hands went to Harry's chest. He grinded once, a moan from Harry, and another repeat of the action. When Harry moaned again Draco kissed him, gently taking his mouth again with his tongue. Harry's fingers went to Draco's hair, holding the soft locks. Draco's hands moved lower, lower, lower...  
  
Harry gasped. Draco's hands taunted his thighs, tracing patterns around the inner skin and Harry's =:ehemm:=. Draco smirked as Harry let go of his hair, hands instead going to grip the comforter. Draco began making his way down, leaving a trail of kisses down Harry's front. Harry bit his lip to suppress a moan, but gasped at what Draco did.  
  
Draco engulfed Harry with his mouth, hands firmly pinning Harry's legs apart as he worked. Harry's back arched, and he couldn't help but moan. It was quiet, but Draco ran a hand down his stomach, projecting =/Don't forget Sev, love.../=  
  
Harry whimpered; "...Can only think about-nn-this...!" he managed.  
  
Draco smiled through his mouthful. With a few more moves, Harry came, whispering Draco's name, and gasping as he did. He fell limp on the bed, panting. Draco swallowed, before coming back up to Harry's face. He smiled, gazing at Harry's flushed cheeks and hooded eyes, his rising chest and...  
  
"Draco," Harry breathed.  
  
"Shh, shh," Draco cooed, his index finger going to Harry's swollen lips; "You can just feed tonight, and surprise me later."  
  
Harry smiled weakly, fighting to keep his eyes open; "I'm...tired," he managed groggily.  
  
Draco smiled; "Well, we've got another three hours before sunset. Rest..." he began stroking Harry's hair.  
  
"Shouldn't we get dressed and clean up?" Harry mumbled as Draco sat on his knees beside him.  
  
Draco smiled, and with a wave of his hand, all residue, sweat, anything, was gone. Harry vaguely looked around, smirking.  
  
"Sometimes I wonder just how much of a Muggle you are," Draco mused, leaning over Harry again and kissing him. Harry could taste himself vaguely in Draco's mouth as they kissed, but ignored it. Draco had brought him happiness, sweet pure bliss, something of which he hadn't felt since fifth year.  
  
Draco pulled away; "Just rest now, I'll get us some clothes."  
  
Harry nodded, closing his eyes and turning on his side as Draco got off the bed. But he only fell asleep after Draco had dressed him {magically, of course}, then himself, and then climbed in to the bed beside him. Harry turned and wrapped an arm around Draco, nuzzling his face into Draco's warm neck. Draco smiled, and soon both drifted off into slumber.  
  
---  
  
Snape had remained in the chair as he thought for an hour, only lifting his head when he heard crackling from the fireplace. Looking over, he saw Remus Lupin's head among the dancing flames.  
  
"Severus!" he called in a whispered hiss, looking around.  
  
Snape got up, and moved to a seat on a couch; "Yes, Remus, to what do I owe the honor," he drawled sarcastically, rubbing his eyes before facing the werewolf.  
  
"Where's Harry?" Remus asked anxiously; "Is he safe? I can only hope he's here—!"  
  
"Of course he's here and yes he's safe!" Snape said; "I made sure that Weasley left without a hitch or notion."  
  
"Notion? Of what sort?" Remus asked, eye brow quirking quizzically; "What's happened, Severus?"  
  
"It would danger the lives of many if I told," Snape said curtly, "I would get Harry for you, but I'm sure he's resting."  
  
Remus was silent; "How was he, Severus?" he asked quietly; "I've been trying all summer to get Dumbledore to let Harry stay with me at Private Drive, but he said it would be too traumatizing and that he was safer with the Dursleys..."  
  
"Do you consider Albus and trustworthy, frank man?" Snape asked.  
  
Remus was silent; "God no," he gasped, becoming enraged; "Harry was _beaten_, wasn't he? _I knew it_! I KNEW IT!!!" he roared, disappearing from sight momentarily.  
  
Snape leaned closer to the fire, then yelped in surprise as Remus came hurtling through the fire, shouting the spell to travel by floo as he did. The werewolf collided with the other man, and they landed in a jumbled heap.  
  
"_Gerrof me_!" Snape growled, pushing an ashy and dusty Remus off him.  
  
Remus rose, then helped Snape up; "Sorry, but damnit where is my godson?" he asked, looking around.  
  
"Remus, calm down!" Snape said loudly, and Remus quieted to face him; "I assure you, Harry is fine. I told you, he's resting. Godson, you say?" he asked; "How...?"  
  
"Well, _Sirius was my partner_, Severus," Remus said; "And, by law, Harry is my godson as well," he struggled with Sirius's name, but kept calm.  
  
Snape watched Remus for a moment; "That explains _a lot_," he mused quietly, crossing his arms.  
  
"Oh, don't be so surprised, Severus," Remus said, "Now, I'm just going to see Harry for myself, then I'll leave..."  
  
"Wait, Remus!" Snape began, but Remus was already heading up the steps. Groaning, Snape hurried after, but upon hearing the door open and Remus gasp, he knew he was too late.  
  
---  
  
Remus stared at the bed, speechless. He had had inklings that Harry was gay, or bi-, but never had he thought he'd actually catch him... in bed... with a Malfoy. Remus was thunder struck. Harry was wrapped in Draco's arms... /_lovingly_? / Remus though. /No, no this isn't... hell it is... but... oh Harry your choice.../  
  
The next thing he noticed was feathers. Midnight black feather from wings on Harry's back, on splayed slightly across the bed while the other was tucked beneath him. Draco's were there as well, though his feathers were more a cloudy grey. /_Wings_?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?/  
  
"Remus, Let me explain..."  
  
The quiet whisper came from Snape, whose hand descended onto Remus' shaking shoulder. Remus fought to not scream, this was too much too soon too quick.  
  
"Now," Remus muttered; "I want to know _everything_."  
  
Snape sighed; "All over a cup of tea, old friend."  
  
And so saying, Snape led Remus down to his kitchen, dreading on what they had to talk about.  
  
A/N: hello! Sorry this was late but I was blushing madly while I completed this thing!!! I'm utterly paranoid, I'm so afraid one of my parents might read it... oh you people better review!!!! j/k  
  
Animatronic Computer voice: WARNING, WARNING, PARENTAL WATCH ALERT. WARNING, SPYWARE ENABLED.  
  
TR: good god, run Harry and Draco, run!!! 


	8. A Play of Thoughts and an Exchange of Wo...

**A/N:** okay, hullo people. I'm getting the notion that a few of you think I like rape? No, you may not but some deserve a reason. This story has a lot to do with my cousin, and I had to have a plot that starts on something other than cutting or any other form of self-mutilation (honestly, there are other bad deeds out there, not that cutting's not bad, it's horrible. **DON'T DO IT**).  
  
I updated the summary, too, so please don't think I'm some twisted freak, okay? I had trouble writing the first chapter, and not just because I was trying to be a smartass by showing off.  
  
Ah, _Privit_ was on auto-correct too! Damn that Microsoft word, it's an evil software sometimes...  
  
ra1ns0ng32, Hail yeah it'd be awesome to fly, that's why I pitched the concept!  
  
And another newbie, Eideard, hullo and thank you!!!! I guess I do have a few [and by few I mean many] grammar mistakes, but note my situation. I feel honored and loved, by the way!!!!  
  
And sorry to tell you all but there will be **no** beta for me. I'm a loner of sorts when it comes to things like these, and it's frustrating sometimes. So, please bypass the mistakes and continue reading!!!!!  
  
P.S.; Eideard, I went to your profile. You're pretty new, aren't ya? Welcome to the party, girl (or boy, don't know what you are) but all the same!!!!!!!!!

TR: Now, who brought the tequila? **Steve**, no, down off the table!!!! _STEVE_!!!{Well, we know who _stole_ the tequila...}  
  
Steve =drunken, off key voice= : oh Danny Boy, the pipes the =burp= pipes are call-all-ling!!!!!!!!  
  
TR: somebody get him down!!!!!  
  
Later...  
  
:: Breaks down in a fit of tears:: **PsychoticDeath** is leaving me!!!! Damn her parents [not really] but all the same! :: continues sobbing::  
  
Wait, I don't cry! :: wipes eyes:: **THIS STORY IS OFFICIALLY DEDICATED TO PSYCHOTICDEATH**!!!!!! _Farewell, my friend and loyal reviewer! Thyne absence shall be mourned until thyne's return...  
_  
Anyway, yes, it was my first love scene... =blushes madly, then looks over shoulder=... dunno if there will be more... gods am I paranoid.  
  
**Harry** (scoffing): Well, that's an understatement.  
  
_**Draco** _=nods=: I agree  
  
TR: anyway, thanks everyone for reviewing! Past 80! Woot!  
  
**LL**, I had no right to call you "unintelligent", but the theory of getting out still stands. I understand if it disturbs you, but, like you said, it was (1)...  
  
::looks around anxiously, then whispers:: What's MENSA? Sorry, I'm so deep inside the holler; I'm the only kid besides my friend Beth who owns a computer!!!!!  
  
Final note: MY Remus HAS NO MUSTACHE, HE LOOKS LIKE HOW HE IS IN THE BOOKS! Shaggy hair, pretty hazel eyes, nice build, weary look, the like! No mustache, no mustache!!!!! And Severus isn't the greasy bastard in the books, he's fetch-worthy and his nose does not resemble that of a bird's beak!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
:: Okay, officer, I'll get off the car...::  
  
Anyway, disclaimer, I own nothing  
  
**8......**  
  
"So... Harry's a... a _dark creature_?" shaky hands brought a shaking cup to Remus lips as he sipped on the scalding tea. The heat of the liquid was his last concern.  
  
Snape nodded, taking his own cup; "Yes, as of his birthday over two weeks ago," he replied. He'd been over this three times, and Remus still couldn't comprehend it.  
  
Remus nodded; "Does... anyone else know of this, beside us and Draco?"  
  
"No," Snape said; "Though, the other Vampires will know by now."  
  
Remus stared at the table; "This isn't good," he said; "Harry's in danger now more than ever..."  
  
"Not necessarily," Snape said; "Draco told me, when he became a vampire, that he was safe because of the fact that most of the vampires live in and around the United kingdom, and a few in France, Denmark, and Belgium. They look out for each other, Remus. Harry's probably safer now more than ever. He's got a literal lifeline just because of what he is."  
  
"You've taken this to great thought, haven't you, Severus?"  
  
Snape was silent; "To be honest, I have," he replied simply; "The boy's not who he let on to be. Quite the conservationist, really, when he's not upset or brooding," he added matter-of-factly before sipping his tea.  
  
Remus chuckled dryly; "But... _Draco_," he said, "Why would Harry... _you know_..."  
  
"Choose him?" Snape asked; "That, I do not know. Perhaps it is because they are the same in a lot of ways, and because Draco has been smothering the boy in affection," he grimaced; "Makes me sick, to be honest. I must admit though, he's happier now it seems than he has been all of last year."  
  
Remus nodded; "Well, so long as Harry's happy," he said finally.  
  
There was a lengthy pause then, as both men sipped on their tea.  
  
"So, I suppose you'll be coming back for the DADA position?"  
  
"I'm thinking it over."  
  
"I say take it."  
  
"_Wha-what_? Don't you want that job?"  
  
"Yes, but with someone trustworthy around, I—_we,_ can keep better watch over the two..."  
  
"Ah... Severus..."  
  
"...What?"  
  
"...Nothing, never mind."  
  
---  
  
Harry opened his eyes when Snape led Remus downstairs, and let out the breath he had been holding. Draco opened his eyes as well. They had both heard the two wizards in the living room, keen senses picking up the noise. Harry, who was still adjusting, hadn't slept much, merely enjoyed the sound of Draco's heartbeat and the gentleness of his breathing. He felt like a love-struck first year, but he didn't care. He loved the feeling...  
  
Draco shifted, left wing spanning out as he stretched; "So much for rest, eh, love?" he asked, yawning.  
  
"You seem to be quite happy, laying like this," Harry said, turning on his side to get a better view the blonde. One eyebrow was raised skeptically.  
  
Draco eyed him, and then looked down his slender frame. For the first time to memory, a faint blush graced the blonde's cheeks. Draco looked back up, as if unfazed, and calmly stated; "Oh, _that_ will go away."  
  
Harry laughed, rolling onto his back; "What?" Draco asked incredulously; "_It_ will!"  
  
"Then I guess you might as well leave me now," Harry said, rolling over on his side again with, in Draco's opinion, and extremely sexy smirk. Even without telepathy, Draco seemed to know what he meant. Still appearing unfazed, he eyed Harry.  
  
"Oh, you think?" Draco asked thoughtfully, rolling over. One of his wings shot out, knocking Harry out of the bed.  
  
"Hey!" Harry shouted as he hit the floor. Grumbling, Harry rose, rubbing his back and rear gingerly.  
  
"That didn't hurt and _I_ know it," Draco said, rolling over. He rested his head on his hands, watching Harry. /and this angel's all mine/ Draco thought, smirking.  
  
"What are you smiling about?" Harry asked, crawling back onto the bed.  
  
"Oh, nothing," Draco said; "Just thinking that you're all mine."  
  
"Oh I am, am I?" Harry asked coolly, sitting down and leaning back onto the comforters and pillows, wings folded back and out of sight.  
  
"Well, technically," Draco said, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully as he went over to the raven-haired youth; "You're not... _yet_," he said, looking Harry over.  
  
"Whoa wait a minute," Harry said, sitting up. But Draco was faster; he crawled on top of Harry, sitting on his stomach. Harry let out a winded breath, and crossed his arms as he pouted and looked up at the blonde. Draco smirked, leaning down.  
  
"I could, _you know_," he whispered seductively, drawing his hand up and running a hand down Harry's cheek and jaw line.  
  
The touch left Harry shivering with want, but he willed it down; "No," Harry said firmly; "I'm not ready, you horndog."  
  
Draco looked crestfallen, and climbed off of Harry, laying next to him instead.  
  
"Oh, what's the matter?" Harry asked.  
  
"You called me horndog," Draco mumbled, looking at Harry sadly with puppy dog eyes.  
  
Harry rolled his own eyes, "Oh, surely you'd be used to _it_—" he poked Draco just above the groin; "—by now," he smirked as he rose, leaving Draco looking astounding.  
  
"Where are you going?" Draco finally asked indignantly; "Did I say you could leave?"  
  
"Didn't _I _say I was no one's bitch?" Harry retorted, pulling his pair of loose sweatpants. He then put on a tank top {a/n: did I mention that he and Draco were only in their boxers? Sorry!}.  
  
Draco chuckled; "You do know you're godfather's down there," he stated.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Harry said simply as he opened the door. He turned to Draco; "Should I give him a scare?" he asked, smirking as his wings became visible.  
  
"Wouldn't want the man to wet his pants," Draco said, smiling with a mischievous look in his eye.  
  
Harry shook his head and chuckled; "Then where would the fun be?" he asked, grinning evilly.  
  
"OH,_ you_ _**Slytherin**_!" Draco gasped dramatically as Harry slipped out of the room.  
  
---  
  
"So, how are you and that old house faring now that... _things, _have changed?" Snape asked as he rose to refill the tea pot for the fourth time.  
  
Remus sighed; "Getting along," he replied solemnly, idly gazing at his stirring spoon; "The Weasleys come by every now and then, as do the others..."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure the first group is _wonderful_," Snape said sarcastically.  
  
"They aren't as bad as you think, Severus," Remus said, looking at the potions master.  
  
"Try having going to school with the first generation, then having the next six or seven in your classes," Snape retorted curtly; "I swear Percy was the _only _exemplary one of the lot."  
  
"Oh, aren't we the snide one," Remus muttered, rolling his eyes; "You haven't changed at all, Severus, not an ounce."  
  
"Oh, but we were all different at the tender age of fifteen," Snape said, "But then again, scars run deep... Don't they, Remus?"  
  
The words hung in the air as Remus quieted; "I apologized," Remus said finally; "Countless times! As did Sirius, James, and Peter even!"  
  
"That's not what I'm referring to," Snape muttered as he magically sped up the warming process. The tea kettle whistled, and he took it off the stove. Walking over, tea kettle in hand, Snape poured out two more cups. As he did, he caught a familiar black-winged shadow grace the doorway. Ignoring it, Snape took his seat, waiting for what would happen.  
  
/Pray Draco hasn't rubbed off on him too much/ Snape thought.  
  
Remus was sipping his tea when he felt the air blow past his face, ruffling his hair. He froze, and looked over to Snape, who was apparently oblivious to the draft; "Severus," Remus said; "I do believe there's a draft..."  
  
"Oh, no, that might just be the ghoul," Snape mused, looking up at him; "_Or_..."  
  
"_Hello, Remus_," Harry whispered into Remus' ear, coming up suddenly behind him.  
  
The werewolf screamed [yes, he screamed], jumping out of his seat, sending tea everywhere, and knocking the chair and Harry away. Harry landed on the floor laughing, the sound so vague and unfamiliar there was a pause in action. Snape was beside himself with mirth, and let out a laugh.  
  
Remus quickly muttered the cleansing charm to clean the tea, then turned to Harry. But the sight of seeing Harry smile made him forget about scolding, he could only grin warmly to his godson.  
  
"Harry," Remus said, "How are you?"  
  
"Better," Harry said as he rose.  
  
Remus saw his wings folded against his body; "Harry, I want you to know that I'm still by your side," Remus said.  
  
"I know, I know, Remus," Harry said, "You always have been. Oh, I'm sorry for what you saw when you came up there," he added, pointing to the ceiling.  
  
"Oh, there's a first time for everything I suppose," Remus said, sitting down again at the table.  
  
Snape then promptly got up, and left.  
  
Harry silently chuckled as he watched the potions master leave, then turned to Remus; "So... I suppose you... _know_," Harry said.  
  
"Yes, I do," Remus said; "And I'd also like you to know Harry, that I trust what Severus told me about Dumbledore, and what he's ignored."  
  
Harry felt a slight wave of dislike for Snape for a second, but couldn't get angry at Snape. He'd just done too much on his own free will for Harry to ever hate him.  
  
"Harry, we can keep you from those awful people _for good_," Remus said; "Just say the word."  
  
"I've been saying it for years," Harry said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the icebox.  
  
"Yes, but now Dumbledore will have to hear you," Remus said; "We have to get things back on track, for everyone's sake."  
  
"Go ahead, let the train crash," Harry mused, looking at a painting hanging on the wall by his head; "I don't care what happens to anyone."  
  
"This affects us all, Harry," Remus said, "You, me, Severus... _Draco_."  
  
Harry's head snapped towards his direction at this; "What are you getting at?"  
  
"You now being a vampire will have great influence on Dumbledore," Remus said, "Provided he finds out. Think of it this way, you have a hand over the old man now."  
  
Harry eyed him; "Yeah, _sure_," Harry said, "There are tons of things that the old coot doesn't know about, Remus, where have you been?"  
  
"Be careful about what you say, Harry," Remus said calmly; "There are things even_ I_ don't know about, and Dumbledore considers me one of his confidants."  
  
Harry paused; "Remus," he said, "I feel like he's been... keeping something from me. And not just details on my parents' deaths, no, something bigger..."  
  
"I wouldn't know," Remus said; "Now, about feeding, Harry. You—"  
  
Draco then appeared in the doorway, putting on a black sweater and staring at Harry. =/We _need_ to get going/= he projected urgently =/It's almost sunset/=  
  
=/Fine/= Harry replied simply looking at him.  
  
"Well, as I was saying," Remus said, rising; "No wizards, clear? And especially no one you know, got it?"  
  
Harry stared at his godfather. Had he caught the conversation?  
  
Remus just smiled; "And come home _alive_," he added firmly, smile fading. He then walked out of the kitchen. The two vampires caught a brief exchange of "goodbyes" from Snape and Remus, then there was the roar of the fire, and Remus had left.  
  
"Well, that was odd," Draco said aloud, but quietly; "Come on, we need to go."  
  
"You're in a rush," Harry muttered as they walked up the stairs.  
  
"Well, I'm hungry," Draco retorted; "Hurry, change and we can get going sooner!"  
  
The blonde practically shoved Harry into his room, and Harry turned to face him.  
  
"Look, no shoving," he said firmly; "And be patient. Gods, you never seem to slow down!" he groaned as he turned around to pick out clothing.  
  
Draco laughed as he went over and fell onto the bed, and Harry faced him again; "What?" he asked angrily, annoyance level increasing dramatically.  
  
"Not three weeks and we sound like _we're married_!" Draco managed, wiping his eyes and propping himself up on his elbows. He gazed at Harry.  
  
Harry sneered, rolling his eyes as he put on a sweater over the tank. He then took his sweats off and replaced them with black jeans. Slipping on his shoes, all the while knowing Draco was watching his every move, Harry promptly "fell" onto the bed, landing in Draco's lap.  
  
"Ooh, wish to surprise me _now_?" Draco asked, smirking.  
  
"Hmm, maybe," Harry said, inwardly smiling at the sudden look of lust in Draco's eyes; "But, there are things to do," Harry said in a very Malfoy- ish tone, sitting up.  
  
Draco huffed, crossing his arms; "Oh, never fret, my pet," Harry said, continuing with the tone of voice; "You'll get what's _coming_ to you..." he smirked to the blonde before rising; "Now, are we going or not?"  
  
"Drop that bloody accent and I might," Draco hissed, glaring at Harry.  
  
Harry chuckled; "Fine," he said, smiling.  
  
/That smile... ooh and I bet he knows it makes me melt/ Draco thought as he rose.  
  
=/Oh does it? Hmm, guess I've got a good reason to smile more, don't you think?/=  
  
"Did I say you could do that?" Draco asked snidely as they went down the hall to the back balcony. He hadn't even felt Harry penetrate his mind at all. It unnerved him slightly.  
  
"Did I say I'd warn you?" Harry snapped back, smirking.  
  
/Oh, so he wants to play that little game, huh? Well, we'll just see.../ Draco thought, then he drawled; "Well, Potter, I'd expect no better from _you_..."  
  
"Oh, and what's _that_ mean?" Harry asked coarsely as they opened the doors. They walked out onto the balcony.  
  
Draco spread his wings, glancing evilly at the other youth; "Well, since you being a Gryffindor and all, I wouldn't expect the explanation to get through your thick head."  
  
Harry angrily spread his wings, "Watch your back, Malfoy," he warned.  
  
"Fine," Draco replied; "Oh, and fly above the clouds. We can't risk being seen."  
  
"What clouds?" Harry asked as Draco jumped onto the railing, but before Harry got a reply, Draco had kicked off and began soaring away into the clear night sky.  
  
Mumbling, Harry did the same.  
  
A/N: well, ha-ha, there ya go! Sorry if the first A/N was a bit long!


	9. The Female and A New Companion

A/N: Ooh, over 100 reviews!!!!!!! Yay!!!! But I'm upset with some reviews I got, no, royally pissed describes me better. Okay, where's my soapbox?  
  
{stands on crate} okay, I'm ready... {Takes deep breath}...  
  
DOES ANYONE READ MY AUTHOR'S NOTES?!?!?!?!?? OKAY, I'M TIRED OF BEING PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE, HERE'S **MY** SAY!!!  
  
I KNOW HOW TO SPELL **ARTHUR** NOW, I **FIXED** THE PROBLEM. ALSO, I HAVE **MICROSOFT WORD**, AND **I AM AMERICAN**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M **NOT BRITISH**, AND I AM **_A LONER_**!!!! JUST LOOK PAST THE MISTAKES, AND _KEEP READING_!!!!!!  
  
THERE** IS** A **WARNING** IN THE **SUMMARY**!!!!!!!!!!!!! {Screams loudly in fury and dissatisfaction} THIS IS **SO** _F#$KED UP_!!!!!!  
  
AND** LL** PUSHED A BUTTON, OKAY?! [Granted though, they don't know me, and I did apologize. In fact, I will again. LL, I am SORRY.]  
  
I'M ONLY **HUMAN**, SO EXPECT MISTAKES!!!!!!  
  
GOT ANY MORE PROBLEMS? HUH, DO YA? DO YA?!?!?!? COME AND GET ME!!!! _PSYCHOTICDEATH_ MAY HAVE GONE, BUT I STILL HAVE THE UZI AND THE MACHINE GUN!!!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!! HAH! [Fires off warning shot]  
  
{Sighs} Sorry, if the above did not concern you, loyal, kind readers and reviewers.  
  
Anyway, on a more peaceful note, who says I was referring to the Triwizard Tournament, eh? Oh, I was referring to yet another ordeal entirely, so sorry for the confusion!  
  
Remus won't turn on Harry. There's enough betrayal and deception floating around, thank you! ::stomps foot::  
  
Um, sorry but there will be no Remus/Snape happening. I have a plan in store {cackles} sorry, it's not a bad thing, I swear.  
  
Oh yes, Harry is 16, therefore, this is after OotP.  
  
I know that chapter one is pretty much the one chapter where I'm at my best, but I've gone back and down-sized the vast majority of the big words and complicated metaphors. People have to understand what it is that I write, correct? So, therefore, Chapter one will be my best chapter. But you are right, FallenAngel12, My story has gone down quite a bit. Let's face it, 2.2% isn't a large group of people, is it? I fear I'm outnumbered. But thank you for such a nice review!  
  
Oh, but fluffy things are so soft and cuddly!!!! ::gag:: to right, once again, FallenAngel12. It's like reading through wool.  
  
Ahem, if they do not feed upon wizards, what else is there besides animals? MUGGLES, dear, Muggles...::shakes head::  
  
MENSA seems boring, though, I looked it up. I'm too much of an idiot, anyway. They'd kick me out even if I did get in. Let's face it, nerds make good tutors, idiots make the best of friends. You can love a freak, but you can't stand a jerk. May the world go 'round and 'round and 'round again!  
  
That being said, further flames I receive, if I find them offensive to my own muse and/or intelligence, shall be strung up with chains in old, dead oak trees and laughed at. Yes, I'll cackle madly at any who think what they say will affect me any longer. Arguing is fun, I love doing it. Really, amuse me. I'm already in hell, why not get some more fire? {Throws head back and laughs hysterically} oh, this is too fun!!!!!!  
  
{Coughs} yes, I am aware that I am completely and utterly insane. Thankfully, school is starting soon, so I'll have a reason to sober up again. Yes, I start school on Thursday! Oh well...  
  
Final notes:  
  
/Harry's thoughts/  
  
(/Draco's thoughts/)  
  
Disclaimer: I own nuthin.  
  
P.S....  
  
da dinkidy dink dink, you pushed a button, too, in case you failed to notice. I could just stop the story all together, huh? But no, too many other people think this story is brilliant, many more than just you and LL. But, thank you for the constructive criticism, okay? I guess I'll consider a beta. Maybe. But I don't like it, it gets too frustrating.  
  
So, on with this...  
  
**9......  
**  
"I swear Bern, one more an' you'll _keel over_!"  
  
"Ha! Norra chance, Devin! I'm's sturdy 's a brick =hick= wall...!"  
  
The two drunks stumbled down the street, both leaning on each other for support. After a party at Marlon's, a local bar in London, the need to sleep and get home was too compelling to ignore.  
  
"Hang on Bern, I... needta stop...!"  
  
"Just don't spew on me!"  
  
The man laughed as he aided his companion into an alleyway, where the other promptly dry heaved.  
  
"Aw, nothing came out!" Bern said disappointedly. He always found it hilarious when Devin hurled. His friend's face was priceless.  
  
"Shuddup," Devon managed, groaning. He stumbled away from Bern, and held his hand out to lean against the nearest wall.  
  
(/It's a shame really, wouldn't you say?/)  
  
/Hmm, yes, it is. Sad, very sad.../  
  
Bern and Devon both jumped in fright, looking around madly.  
  
"Did you hear that?" Bern asked in a hushed, horrified whisper.  
  
Devon nodded; "Iz just our heads, mate," he muttered, backing up from the wall, looking up.  
  
/All in his head, he says. That's funny, the fool.../  
  
(/Honestly, you'd think Muggles would have more sense...!/)  
  
/Oh trust me, they don't have an _ounce_ of it.../  
  
"Wazza Muggle?" Devon asked in his slurred tongue.  
  
Bern shrugged, "We need ta go," he whispered; "This isn't right..."  
  
(/Shall we introduce ourselves?/)  
  
/Yes, I propose we do/  
  
And like that, two angels descended from the sky, one dark while the other light. They were yin and yang, to Bern's best judgment, anyway, and he and Devon were left in awe of their beauty.  
  
"Wouldja loookit that," Devon mumbled, ogling the pair.  
  
Bern nodded, freezing as the dark of the pair walked over to him, the light going to Devon.  
  
"Been drinking?" the angel asked him.  
  
Bern dumbly nodded, backing up until he hit the wall. The angel continued to pursue him, and Bern knew this was no messenger of God.  
  
Bern shivered as Harry placed a hand to his chest, over his heart; "Pretty healthy though, you could say?" Harry asked quietly, leaning in.  
  
His eyes were green-gold-silver, the metallic grey fast taking over the iris. Bern dumbly nodded, frozen by fright and anxiety.  
  
Harry smirked. He could hear the Muggle's heartbeat, could literally smell his blood. It intoxicated him, and he leaned forward, fangs bared.  
  
Bern's neck lit up in a short burst of pain, and he gasped. Then a warm feeling overtook him, he felt soothed, or drugged by a huge dose of Dramamine, which ever seemed befitting. He closed his eyes, letting a quiet moan escape his lips before passing out.  
  
Harry, having fed enough, let the Muggle fall to the ground. He licked his fangs and lips, staring down at his prey. /Well, that was interesting/ Harry thought. He felt light-headed, drunk, even. He had tasted the whiskey in the man's blood, and combined with the crimson nectar, Harry was almost inebriated. The vampire turned around to see Draco in the same state, leaning against the wall.  
  
Draco looked up at Harry hazily, his smirk lop-sided. There was still blood at the corner of his mouth, and he wiped it away. Harry walked over to him, eyeing his counterpart.  
  
"You're drunk," Harry mused, holding Draco's chin in his hands and turning his head to the side as he examined the other's eyes. They were bloodshot.  
  
"Couldn't resist the whiskey in the pocket," Draco mumbled, pointing down to he ground.  
  
Harry glanced down, seeing the now empty shot case; "That was raw liquor!" He exclaimed, releasing Draco's chin roughly.  
  
Draco rubbed his jaw and chin silently, backing away from the wall and swaying; "It was only a simple shot, love!" he protested groggily.  
  
"That's it, fuck club hopping," Harry said, taking Draco's arm and slinging it over his shoulders.  
  
"Aw,_ but I wanted to_!" Draco whined.  
  
"Not like this," Harry said, and so saying, he took flight, carrying Draco with him.  
  
---  
  
"Look, can you dress yourself? I'm not up to handling a child."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine in an hour or so..."  
  
"Get some sleep."  
  
"I will, _mother_."  
  
"Fuck you, Malfoy..."  
  
"Ooh, _could you_?"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"Oh, alright..."  
  
Harry closed the door to Draco's room, hearing the other vampire fall onto his bed and sleep. Harry walked back out onto the balcony. He leaned against the railing. He sighed, watching the glittering lights of Hogsmead.  
  
Harry looked up, to the sky. The crescent moon was nearing the west already, surrounded by glittering orbs of light that were the stars. They seemed to dance as they shined down upon the world, oblivious to the Turmoil of the World below. Countless times he wished to be one of the Constellations, away from this world and without a care. Ah, if wishes were dreams, one could sleep forever...  
  
Harry sighed. His mind was once more alive with thoughts, like it had been at Privit Drive. But unlike before, it was not on his wounds, both within and without, No, the wandering mind of his was focused upon certain changes, one being what he had done not an hour ago...  
  
A Vampire was a feared creature to the Wizarding World, very few surviving once being found out. It was a dangerous existence, full of uncertainties and unloved paranoia, of restless nights spent watching one's back from being stabbed. It was a life few were chosen to have, and those that were chosen often found themselves dreading it at times of uncertainty...  
  
Uncertainty... the word rang in Harry's head like a cataclysmic amount of old bells, echoing throughout his mind, giving him no pity in haunting him. He felt no love, even thought the presence of the current one who gave to him was there, giving him some solace. But even a little comfort cannot heal all troubles and fears. This was a huge undertaking, a blessing he knew it was called, but he was already considering it a curse...  
  
But why call it a bother, when so much came with it? To trade one's past for a fortuitous future, any man would eagerly do for. Any HUMAN would, but he was that no longer...  
  
But the power, the abilities, the longevity of his new life... He would remain youthful for eternity, choosing when he could stop the aging process. He would only grow with power, his stamina would only sharpen, and his mind could only grow more intelligent and clever. He would possess strengths he once only dreamed of having, and his weaknesses would be few and far between.  
  
It was time for anew, this was his life. This was his Destiny...  
  
Ah, Destiny. Though Fate is a bitch, Destiny is its healthy adversary. Though not reliable, and an ever predominant feature of life, Destiny is the lifeline to all dreams. He remembered dreaming of power, of a place where all were around him, bowing down and on their hands and knees, weary of his powerful might. But as he had wished, it was a dream, and only that.  
  
Yet... now, that dream could become possible.  
  
But Harry only wanted an unbothered life, a chance to live a peaceful existence. He never wanted to die, and now that he wouldn't for a very, very, very long time, he knew that now it was possible...  
  
This should have brightened his spirits, but it only brought more thoughts. He had heard once, that death would take him to his relatives. His greatest wish was to talk to his father, to be embraced by his mother, if only just once. But, if at all, only he wanted to see them, if only for a moment. He wanted to know what he thought was lacking, in his knowledge of just who they were. Stories he had heard, yes, of his father and his mother, but nothing more than that. Of course there was the one memory of Snape's where he saw his sires and the fellow Marauders...  
  
/Okay, how did my thoughts go from vampirism to my parents?/ Harry though. /Gods, I must be loosing it... well, loosing more, I suppose, after what I've been over.../  
  
Though of course, his train of thought had never been on the best of tracks.  
  
Harry groaned as he straightened up and rubbed his face with his hands, stretching his wings out as he did. His body was ready to rest, to regain what energy he was now apparently devoid of. It was odd, these sudden fluxes of weariness to attentiveness and then back to the need of a respite.  
  
Harry walked back inside, wandering down the hallway and opening the door using wandless magic. He kicked his boots off, uncaring of where they landed, and quickly stripped down to his boxers, then fell onto the bed. He lay on top of the covers, wings spreading around him to shield him from any possible movement of cold air. He then drifted into a contemplative slumber.  
  
---  
  
Harry's eyes snapped open at the first unnatural noise, a chimed alarm and the ruffling of covers. Snape was awake, and the creaking of the floorboards was then followed by the opening of the door, and then the trudge to get the Prophet. It was a routine Harry as getting to know by heart, Snape was that methodical during the daybreak hours. Harry moaned as he rolled over, a fresh headache pounding between his ears. He sat up, knowing he was not hung-over.  
  
Groaning from the annoyance of it all, Harry got up, wings folding back into place, and he pulled on a random pair of loose jeans, grabbing his belt to keep them onto his waist. He then tied his hair back with the same cord. Yawning, he opened the door, and walked to the stairs.  
  
Harry paused at the top, looking back down the hall. /Where's Draco?/ he thought, it suddenly dawning on him that the other vampire was not on the second floor. A brief moment of worry, then Harry compromised that Draco was more than capable of handling things on his own, and that Harry would know if he was in trouble.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes at his sudden emotion, and continued down the stairs. He went into the kitchen, to see Snape sipping on a mug of tea whilst reading the Daily Prophet. Draco was at the stove, watching eggs cook, but he looked up and gazed at Harry, giving him a smirk. He then returned to watching the eggs, an innocent, almost childish look of curiosity gracing his handsome features.  
  
"Good Morning," Snape said casually; "I trust you two followed the guidelines?"  
  
"No wizards," Harry said, sitting down. Draco only nodded.  
  
"Don't even _think_ about it," Harry warned him when Draco reached over for the spatula. Draco looked over his shoulder and glared at him, but obeyed.  
  
"Like I could do anything," he muttered inaudibly.  
  
Harry caught it, and only rolled his eyes. His anger rose though, as soon as he caught sight of the front picture. In a flash, he got up, snatched the article from Snape, and had settled back down, his eyes quickly reading the article. So, the Minister had blabbed. There was a large, moving photo of Harry from last year, and above, the headline read "_POTTER FOUND, MINISTRY OFFICIALS RELIEVED_". Harry held the paper back out as he rose, and a silent Snape took it back without a word. Harry then left the kitchen.  
  
Draco quickly followed him; "What's wrong _now_?" he drawled, following Harry into the sitting room.  
  
"Nothing," Harry mumbled, sitting down on the sofa before stretching out on it.  
  
"I'll sit on you if you won't tell me," Draco said.  
  
=/well, someone's chipper/= Harry thought coldly, glaring at the blonde who was slowly walking over.  
  
"Well, I got _sleep_," Draco said simply, arms crossed over his bare chest; "What, bad first time?"  
  
"No!" Harry snapped.  
  
"Gods, _woman_! Are you _PMS-ing_ today?" Draco snapped back, giving his own icy glare.  
  
Harry sighed, "Just leave me alone..." he mumbled, putting a pillow over his face.  
  
"You know I couldn't if I wanted to," Draco said, gaze softening with his smirk; "Look, Weasley was bound to blab, he's the damned Minister. And sorry, but until our kind's rise to power, there's nothing you can do about it. And since that isn't going to be happening for a while, the only option would be to kill him. Pointless really, to have _his_ blood on your hands," he added nonchalantly.  
  
"Not a bad idea, though," Harry mused, taking the pillow and laying it over his bare torso.  
  
"Oh, why'd you do that?" Draco whined, snatching the pillow; "Ha, much better," he said approvingly, smirking.  
  
"Draco," Harry said in a warning tone. The blonde was being too childish, and today Harry just couldn't tolerate it.  
  
"I'm just seeing if I can get you to smile, or hit me even," Draco said; "You're being positively _horrid_, and after you've been moderately sated for the past few days! Well, minus the past two," he muttered.  
  
"Draco, just... _please_," Harry said, rolling over to face the back of the chair.  
  
"No, I will not leave you alone until you smile!" Draco persisted, and so saying, he sat down on Harry, forcing the ebony-haired youth to roll over to avoid his torso's collapsing. Harry glared daggers at the blonde, who looked at him innocently.  
  
"Please?" he whined, pouting.  
  
The pitiful look went to no avail, and Harry only crossed his arms; "Get. Off. Me. _Now_," he warned ominously.  
  
"Why don't you just shove me off?" Draco asked, smirking. He thought he had the upper hand then, but Harry did just that. He shoved him, making sure the poor blonde hit the floor face-first.  
  
Draco groaned, and sat up, rubbing his jaw gingerly. Harry was watching him, grinning with a sadistically happy shine in his eyes.  
  
"_Snake_," Draco said, spitting blood. Oh, that wasn't good.  
  
"Oh, I really hurt you," Harry said, voice hinting mock disappoint. He got up and picked Draco up, and checked him over; "Uh oh," Harry said, "I've damaged _the_ _Ice Prince_."  
  
"What?!" Draco shouted, in a flash standing before the hallway mirror.  
  
Indeed, there was already a nasty-looking bruise forming on his jaw, the blue evident in the red. Seething, Draco turned just to see Harry walking after him, the smirk seemingly glued to his features. He looked like a nine- year-old who was proud to be caught in the act of setting the cat on fire. This made Draco even angrier.  
  
"You think this is funny?!" he hissed, pointing to his jaw.  
  
Harry's shoulders went slack as he stared at Draco; "Um, it will be gone, Drake," Harry said, "In probably an hour or so. You're a _vampire_, dimwit."  
  
Draco glared at him, before turning on his heel and storming up the stairs. His display of pomposity was followed by Harry's fit of laughter, though as hollow as it sounded, it was elated.  
  
/well/ Draco thought as he went into the bathroom /at least he's happy. Oh, my poor face!/ he inwardly whined when he saw his reflection. The bruise was already showing dramatically, and Draco was seething once more.  
  
---  
  
Harry's laughter died away, the vampire having had to sit down against the wall to steady himself in the process. His eyes lifted to meet the gaze of Snape, who was eyeing him skeptically.  
  
"And what, may I ask, caused this sudden outburst?" Snape drawled, "I feared you would die," he added good-naturedly.  
  
"Just Draco," Harry said, getting up slowly; "He's such a priss," Harry mused, looking up the stairs.  
  
"I wonder why you chose him, honestly," Snape said, "Well, if you could kindly move aside. I wish to change so I can go to work now."  
  
Harry politely stepped aside, watching Snape's ascending form curiously. Snape had been... civil, towards him. Though Harry had been the respectful guest for fear of being thrown out was the only reason he had been solemn and attentive towards the Potions Master. But, it seemed all animosity was spent, no longer was there a reason for such petty hate. Harry honestly enjoyed the trustworthiness each was expressing, though less from Snape's part. Still, it would be different, returning to school and no longer hating his Professor.  
  
Of course, school was still a month away, and Harry quickly decided that the thought was best reserved for later.  
  
Harry walked up the steps himself, quite unsure as to why he was, until he found himself nearing the bathroom door.  
  
/I'm not some animal/ Harry thought, stopping. /So what if he's in the shower... naked... all _wet_... no, just turn around, go to your room and do something.../  
  
And so he did. Harry went to his trunk, and opened it. Pulling his transfigurations book out, he set to work on his essay. But as he pulled out a fresh parchment and quill, the water was cut off. Harry listened, and the door opened moments later. The fresh scent of chamomile and lemon wafted through Harry's open doorway, and flooded his senses. Harry closed his eyes and breathed it in, the oddly comforting scent offering a moment of solace for him. But the scent faded with the opening and shutting of another door. Harry opened his eyes, and huffed indignantly at the loss. /Oh well/ he thought, and then he turned to his book once more.  
  
---  
  
Harry had just finished a paragraph when Draco entered the room, nonchalantly strolling over and setting down on the end of the bed. He was dressed in black slacks and a Slytherin green silk shirt. Harry paused, and looked up at him.  
  
"What?" Draco asked innocently enough to where it might have been convincing to any other person. It was his hair, by the way, which smelled of Chamomile and Lemon, and Harry paused to catch it.  
  
Harry looked back at his work and continued writing, successfully irritating the blonde before him. Draco watched Harry, then asked, in a very quiet, child-like voice; "What are you doing?"  
  
Harry sat his quill down, and cursed silently as a rather large ink blot dotted the page. He glared at Malfoy, "Trying to do homework;" he managed through gritted teeth. /What is it, _Test Harry Day_ or something?/ Harry thought, still eyeing Draco.  
  
Draco watched him placidly; "Oh," he said simply; "Well, could you stop for a few hours and possibly come with me on a little excursion?"  
  
"Where to?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.  
  
"Well," Draco said, inwardly rewarding himself for getting Harry's attention; "I've always wondered what it was exactly Snape did during the summer."  
  
"Brew potions, take care of Death Eater meetings," Harry supplied, "_Fuck one of our other professors_, _kiss Dumbledore's arse_... should I go on?" he asked, smirking.  
  
"_Oh ha-ha_," Draco sneered, rolling his eyes as he leaned back beside Harry, the book, parchment, and writing utensils floating out of his way and onto the floor as he willed them to; "I'm serious," Draco said.  
  
"You just want to get out of the house," Harry said, rolling his eyes again.  
  
"Yes, that happens to play a _very_ significant part," Draco said truthfully; "Oh, come on, Harry, I'm sure you're content just lazing your life away here, but damnit I want to do something!" he said firmly, slamming his fist into the bed.  
  
Harry smirked; "You sounded like a perfectly spoiled brat just then," he said cheekily.  
  
"Well, I can't help being the, if I do say, gorgeous Malfoy that I am," Draco said smugly, brushing his hair back.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes; "Well, maybe the Malfoy bit I could believe," he said, looking around the room aloofly.  
  
"What?!" Draco asked, astounded; "And after I gave you head and professed my love to you!"  
  
As he rose in a huff, Harry commented; "It was good head, mind you."  
  
"Oh, well that makes _everything better_!" Draco said dramatically, turning to see Harry. He was smiling, a look of realization dawning on him.  
  
"What now?" Draco asked curtly.  
  
"I know who the _woman_ is," Harry chanted as he rose as well; "_You_!" in a blur of motion he was in front of Draco, and Harry prodded his shoulder with his index finger; "That little stunt there proves it!" he said enthusiastically; "_You're the one PMS-ing_!"  
  
Draco, unaware that a little challenge had been set into place from a little less than an hour before, only pouted; "Well, _someone_ has to have enough class to make up for _your_ lacking of it," he sneered.  
  
Harry grinned; "I'd sell me wand before I became as stuck up as you, Draco," he said.  
  
"Oh, well better put it on the block," Draco said quietly, shoving Harry back; "Because, keep being near me, and I'll rub off on you..."  
  
The back of Harry's leg's hit the bed, and he fell back onto it; "Oh, how did _that_ get to _this_?" he asked casually as Draco descended upon him.  
  
"Simple," Draco replied, straddling him; "Since you're to stubborn to give up an argument, and I'm not leaving this house alone, I suppose I'll just have to conquer by _other means_," in the span of his talking, Draco had leaned closer and closer to Harry.  
  
"Hmm, not this time," Harry mused, reversing positions to where he was the above; "And, as I said first, _you'll get what's coming to you_," he leaned near Draco's ear, and whispered; "And be damned if it doesn't surprise you."  
  
/Oh, now _there's_ an after thought/ Draco thought as Harry got up.  
  
"Well, I need some things, anyway," Harry said suddenly; "Ten minutes, and we can leave."  
  
/Yes!/ Draco thought triumphantly as he rose; "Of course," he said smoothly; "What ever you say, _Master Potter_."  
  
"Now that, is something I could easily get used to," Harry said, picking a shirt from a messy pile in his trunk.  
  
Draco rose and walked around to behind the other vampire, and eyed the mess scathingly; "How you live like that, I'll never know," he muttered, looking away and moving towards the door; "Meet you in the sitting room;" he said, then he was gone.  
  
Harry looked back, then put the black T-shirt on. He checked his jeans; they would do. He then hastily finished getting ready. Grabbing his money bag, Harry then went down the stairs, to see Draco by the fire with a jar in his hand.  
  
"Oh, we're traveling by Floo?" Harry moaned, rubbing his eyes. He had grown to hate the network of transportation; "Why not fly?" he asked.  
  
"It's the middle of the morning, genius," Draco said, opening the jar; "And, we can get in and out through Knockturn Alley without being given second glances."  
  
"Well, let's get this over with," Harry mumbled, walking over. He took a fistful of the powder, and Draco did the same. Setting the jar on the mantle, Draco stopped into the fireplace.  
  
"Knockturn Alley!" he said clearly as he through the powder down, then, he was gone.  
  
Harry waited, and then did the same. With the same roar of fire, the awful acrid smell of sulfur and burning embers, then the final whoosh, Harry's feet touched ground and he stumbled out into new surroundings.  
  
He was in the same old shop as he had been in almost four years ago, when he tried Floo at the Burrow. It seemed that nothing had changed, and Harry dusted himself off. He jumped when he heard a cough, and saw upon turning around that it was only Draco.  
  
Draco walked over, and automatically went to tousling Harry's bangs until his scar was sufficiently cover.  
  
"Done yet?" Harry asked dully, when he figured Draco had spent enough time touching his hair. He knew Draco had a fondness for it, and Harry didn't mind. Okay, it was getting annoying, he did mind.  
  
"Yes, Harry, really," Draco said, "Come on, then."  
  
"Fine, I'm coming," Harry said.  
  
"Now, first off," Draco said quietly as they walked outside. They stood under the awning of the shop, Draco casting glares at those who dared to glance at them. Draco then returned to thought, crossing his arms; "Ah, yes!" he exclaimed; "Getting you a replacement owl!" he said, turning to Harry; "That's what you were wanting to get, right?"  
  
"Er, yeah, right," Harry replied; "There a shop around? I'm not up to going into Diagon Alley just yet..."  
  
/I was/ Draco thought, but he replied; "Yeah, Corpsmen's. Follow me, and keep close, whatever you do, keep bloody well close."  
  
Saying so, Draco walked from under the awning, and Harry followed. They made their way across the street, and took to the sidewalk. Draco led him under an awning, and then they had reached another side of the alley. Something about it seemed cleaner, no less safer, of course, but different to the eye. Harry looked at the shops, they weren't so dreary. The people though, they were the same.  
  
Harry felt a tug of his hand, and snapped out of his Reverie. Draco was leading him down the sidewalk, loosely holding his hand, walking by his side. Harry looked at the blonde. Draco had the Malfoy façade in place, eyes now a stony grey and posture one sending off the message of power and self-confidence only a Malfoy could possess. Harry shook his head slightly as he looked forward, but before he could think twice, Draco had pulled him into a shop.  
  
The tumultuous clatter and chaotic noise hit Harry, and he paused to assess the causes. He looked around. Cages, tanks, barrels, but mostly cages, took up the space of the shop. There was a front desk, where an old, wrinkly woman sat behind it, reading a Prophet and stroking a black tabby. Harry looked to the other side of the shop, and saw rows of birds sitting on installed perches, most of then ravens and eagle owls. The few owls there were even outnumbered by hawks and falcons.  
  
"Well, here we are," Draco said, irritated by the clamor of the shop. He hoped Harry would hurry.  
  
"Give me a second," Harry muttered, letting go of Draco's hand and walking down past cages with odd doxies and sprites, some animals Harry couldn't place to his knowledge and of course snakes and rats. He made his way to the birds, spotting a curtain raven.  
  
But was it a raven? It had ember-eyes, yellow mixing in with orange and red to create shimmering orbs that glittered with cleverness and intellect. The raven's feathers were ruffled naturally, but they elegantly gleamed and seemed in place, anyway. The bird matched eyes with Harry, seeming to know who and what he was.  
  
Harry then remembered from reading his book... 'Vampires are able to talk to Shadow Animals...' And a raven was a shadow beast. Harry projected his thought to it. =/What is your name, or are you nameless?/=  
  
_They call me Oswarae_ {A/N: pronounced Oh-swarr-ay} the raven replied, _and ye be Harry Potter..._  
  
Harry nodded then turned around to look for Draco. The blonde was bent down, glaring into a cage with a rather prudent looking doxy in it.  
  
"Drake!" Harry said, "I found one!"  
  
"Oh?" Draco asked, giving the doxy a final glare before straightening up and walking over.  
  
"Yeah, this one," Harry pointed Oswarae; "I'm going to get him."  
  
"Have you communicated?" Draco asked.  
  
Harry nodded, and then turned to the raven, hand held out. The bird cawed quietly, and jumped onto Harry's hand.  
  
"Let's get this over with, then!" Draco said as they headed for the front desk; "I'm getting a headache..." he grumbled.  
  
Harry walked to the desk, and the witch looked up at him. "Found everything?" she asked as she looked at Oswarae.  
  
"Yes," Harry said, giving the witch his patented "you dumbass" look. The witch scowled at him, then rang up the price.  
  
"Total is seventeen sickles and four knuts," the witch said.  
  
Harry paid the price, and moved Oswarae to his shoulder. The bird nipped at his ebony hair gratefully as they exited, and Draco sighed with relief.  
  
"Well, I'm up for clothes shopping, you?" Draco asked hopefully.  
  
"Oh no," Harry said; "I know where you're going with this, and—"  
  
"Harry, you're wardrobe is atrocious," Draco interrupted; "And if you're going to be with me, and not that I'm complaining or anything, but it would be good to at least have some fine robes to wear."  
  
"Oh, and what would I wear them to?" Harry asked, crossing his arms.  
  
"Parties, balls, _anything_, really," Draco said, hands akimbo as he eyed Harry; "Come on, Harry, please?" he whined.  
  
"I don't want to!" Harry said defiantly.  
  
"Hmm, I'm afraid you're out of options," Draco said, taking his hand.  
  
Harry groaned; "Fine!" he said, giving in as Draco took the lead; "Two hours, that's all I'm giving you, then we are gone. I hate shopping for clothing..." he mumbled.  
  
_If master wishes Oswarae will peck the other vampire's eyes out_, Oswarae thought suddenly, the offer placid and kind.  
  
=/No need/= Harry replied =/He was bound to, anyway/=  
  
_Is other vampire your mate?_  
  
=/What?! No, of course not!/=  
  
_He acts as such_... Oswarae said solemnly.  
  
=/No, we're 'dating'/= Harry replied.  
  
_A human thing, I will take it as_? Oswarae asked.  
  
Harry mentally nodded =/Yep/= he replied, sighing.  
  
"What was that for?" Draco asked, looking at Harry as they walked; "Oh, the bird and you having a conversation?" he asked.  
  
Harry nodded; "Raven," he corrected; "Oswarae is a raven."  
  
"Yes, a raven," Draco said, "An odd one, though, wouldn't you say?"  
  
_Oswarae understands you, and is offended_. The bird sent to the blonde.  
  
/oh, sorry/ Draco thought /I had no intentions of doing such a thing!/  
  
The raven nodded smugly, leaning over and nipping Draco's ear.  
  
"Hey!" Draco said, glaring at the raven.  
  
Harry chuckled; "Oh, will are lives become even more odder!" he sighed.  
  
"Tell me about it," Draco said, but he smiled none the less.  
  
**A/N:** oh, I fear I may have ended it in fluff again! Oh well, anyway. My next update might be a little late, for I am busy stringing up all the flame reviews in the old oak trees with rusty chains! {cackles madly} Ahem, plus, school starts on Thursday. Yes, real school, not summer school but actual school. What is the City Council coming to?!?!? 


	10. Two Nuisances and a Single Tome

A/N: well... {grins} um... hmm... {looks around as if interested in walls and ceiling} stucco sucks, um... blue... cricket... FORE!  
  
Aheheh, stupidity for my amusement. Sorry this was sooooooooooo late, school, you know, and I had writer's block. But I'm back!  
  
Disclaimer: nope. I am not JKR. Wish I was, but I ain't. Nope, don't own Jack Squat. Well, I own_ him_, but not Draco or Harry. But I can mold them into anything I want with my ideas. Plot's mine too, yep. This story's mine too, yep. But not what it's based on, nope. Nope, nope, nope nope nope.  
  
**10......**  
  
Harry and Draco flooed back to Snape's almost four hours later, after eating and now heavily laden down with bags. Harry hadn't enjoyed the shopping, to say the least, but it had given him something to do so he wasn't complaining. Harry ran the things up, then came back down to the sitting room, only to find Draco completely engrossed in a letter. Oswarae was on his shoulder, reading it as well.  
  
"What's that?" Harry asked, moving over to him.  
  
Oswarae cawed and went to Harry's shoulder, and Harry patted the bird lightly; "_Well_?" he asked again, about to snatch the paper away.  
  
"Hold on," Draco said curtly, his eyes darting back and forth as he finished the letter; "You're not going to believe it," Draco said letting the parchment fall from his hands and to the floor. Draco looked at Harry; "Dumbledore's coming."  
  
Harry snorted; "Yeah, sure he is," he said; "And the Easter bunny lives _under my bed_ making _egg grenades_."  
  
Draco wasn't amused; "I'm serious," he said, voice void of anything other than that; seriousness.  
  
Harry stared at him; "He's going to interrogate me," he muttered, moving over to the window and looking around outside. The front was vacant, save for of course the birds and small mammals that came in from the surrounding fields.  
  
"Listen, I know you'd just love to stand your ground," Draco said, idly picking pieces of invisible lint from his shirt; "But, as a Slytherin, I suggest we run."  
  
"He'd find us," Harry murmured; "The bloody old fool has eyes _everywhere_," he looked at Draco; "We should just not let him in."  
  
"Or, we could just let them think we're out," Draco suggested; "_Hide in the shadows_ and all..."  
  
"I'm not going to hide," Harry said, "You can, I'm not."  
  
"Oh, stop being a bloody Gryffindor!" Draco said; "Let's just go to Muggle London for a few hours, come back tonight or something!"  
  
"By then they might have someone watching," Harry said quietly, crossing his arms and looking out the window again.  
  
Draco paused, watching Harry intently. He was again deep in thought, his eyes void and distant. He was completely still, save for those emerald orbs that solemnly scanned the outside world with disguised worry.  
  
"Why is Dumbledore coming over a cause of worry?" Draco asked; "He's obviously just wondering why his little pet is hiding away at a place he assumed his pet hated."  
  
"Why do you call me_ that_?!" Harry asked, looking at him; "I'm not Dumbledore's _pet_, whatever the hell _that_ may mean," he added, eyes twitching; "I've washed my hands of the Order."  
  
"Oh?" Draco asked; "Then that's why he's coming. To woo you into returning and leaving us snakes behind," he sniffed dramatically, falling onto the couch; "Go on then, leave me!" he crooned, the back of his hand covering his eyes.  
  
"Stop it," Harry said, looking at Draco. He smirked; "People will think you're the bitch."  
  
"Well, as I said before—" Draco began, but was stopped with they heard a relative knocking from the door. Both vampires froze.  
  
=/Harry.../= Draco projected, eyes fixed in the direction of the door.  
  
=/I know/= Harry replied, moving away from the window and to the entrance hall. Draco got up, and followed.  
  
=/I'll answer the door, you go in the study/= Draco said. =/pretend to be reading, or something!/= he shoved Harry down the hall towards the mentioned place, and then went to he door. Looking around and straightening his shirt out of formal habit, he then opened the door.  
  
But it was not Dumbledore standing there, oh no. It was Granger, and the Weasel. They both seemed like they didn't want to be her, and after quickly scanning their thoughts, Draco found this to be true. Weasel especially wished to be elsewhere, or snogging said girl beside him. /Oh, there's a piece of interest/ Draco thought.  
  
"What do _you two_ want?" Draco finally drawled, after his assessment of the two.  
  
"We want to talk to Harry," Hermione said.  
  
"Hmm, let me think," Draco said, "_No_."  
  
"Let us in, Malfoy," Ron said.  
  
"Well, I can't," Draco replied coolly, idly examining his nails; "for, like Harry, I am a guest here. And, the owner of this home is currently unavailable. Perhaps you should come at another time, though I'd hope you'd just turn and never come here again."  
  
"Malfoy, please, I want to speak to Harry," Hermione said; "Five minutes is all I ask."  
  
"Well, again I must decline your offer, _Granger_," Draco said; "For, you see, after hearing some of the things that's happened to Harry, I'd like to hex you both into oblivion, or even kill you, whichever suited my mood when the opportunity came;" he paused; "Are you done bothering me yet?"  
  
"No, we're not leaving until we can talk to Harry," Hermione said firmly, her foot stomping on the small porch.  
  
Draco eyed her dully, clearly bored by the matter; "As fun as arguing can be," he drawled; "My answer shall forever be no."  
  
"Let us in," Hermione said through gritted teeth.  
  
"Gods and I thought you were smart!" Draco exclaimed exasperated, rolling his eyes; "Get off this property before I curse you off!" he said loudly, then promptly stepped back and slammed the door in their faces.  
  
Draco smirked as he walked back towards the study, and saw Harry sitting on the small couch, cross-legged and deep in thought as his eyes scanned a page to a very large tome.  
  
"What'd you find now?" Draco asked, leaning against the door pane.  
  
"Just some interesting nonsense," Harry mumbled, looking up; "I take it they're leaving?" he drawled.  
  
"Of course," Draco said, walking over and sitting on the couch beside him; "I think they're in Hogsmead."  
  
"Go figure," Harry said, setting the book on the coffee table before him. He stretched his legs out, and sighed; "Only a matter of time, I suppose," he mumbled, leaning against the armrest as he turned to face Draco.  
  
The sight was so inviting, Draco thought, seeing Harry's lap vacant. The blonde crawled over and promptly took the opportunity, and Harry raised and eyebrow.  
  
"Only a matter of time until _what_?" Draco asked innocently, curling up and resting his head on Harry's shoulder.  
  
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes; "until Dumbledore sends the Order to get me. You see, he feels that I'm a volatile, sporadic and angry power-house that needs to be tended to and kept on a lease."  
  
"Which you've broken," Draco said, idly tracing circles on Harry's chest.  
  
"Yes," Harry said, shivering and taking Draco's hand in his to stop the menstruations.  
  
Draco pouted, sticking his lower lip out and furrowing his brow. To Harry, he looked like an unhappy, spoiled, four-year-old. Never the less, Harry let his hand go, and continued.  
  
"Since I ran away from home, ran into the Weasleys, and came here, I know he's been rethinking his plan."  
  
"His... _plan_?" Draco asked, losing his pout and looking at Harry quizzically.  
  
Harry nodded; "Over the years, you know, I've been picking small things up. One thing is Dumbledore's desperate for power."  
  
"Well, there's a shocker," Draco muttered sarcastically.  
  
"I'm serious," Harry said, "After he fought and defeated Grindewald, the man couldn't stand not being in the lime light!"  
  
"Well, he _is_ an old codger, Harry," Draco said; "So what, are you going to propose something from your paranoid stricken mind and suggest we go somewhere else?"  
  
Harry shook his head; "No, no point," he replied sullenly; "I'm going to see him in another week, anyway..."  
  
"Oh well," Draco said; "You'll get resorted and be with me, what's it matter?"  
  
"It matters a lot, you snake," Harry said, "The fact that I'll probably end up killing him for what he's done is enough to worry about!"  
  
"I'll hold you back," Draco whispered seductively, wrapping one arm around Harry while his hand started tracing the circles again.  
  
"Really, Draco," Harry said, "here? What if someone walked in on us?"  
  
"Snape won't mind," Draco whispered; "I think he gets a _kick_ out of it," his voice trailed off as he began kissing Harry's neck.  
  
Harry groaned, and held his hand up to Draco's wandering one, stopping the blonde yet again; "Listen, lust bucket," he said when Draco looked at him; "I'm not in the mood, okay? I'm sorry, but I'm just-_mmph_!" his voice was cut off as Draco kissed him. Harry gently removed the blonde, staring him in the eyes with that stern, yet vacant, gaze that told Draco against his intentions.  
  
"Sorry," Draco whispered; "I..."  
  
"Whatever," Harry said, getting up, but not before pushing Draco to the couch and off of himself.  
  
"Harry," Draco said; "What'd you read in that book?" /that's got to be the reason/ Draco thought.  
  
"_Nothing_, Draco," Harry growled, walking out of the room. He stormed up the steps, walking down the short hall and out onto the back balcony. Harry leaned against the railing and sighed, his eyes glaring daggers at the sky above.  
  
/That damn book/ Harry thoughts, closing his eyes almost painfully as he bowed his head. /Why'd I even pick it up...? Now I'm officially ruined.../  
  
---  
  
Back in the study, Draco had watched concernedly as Harry had left, noting the tone of the young man's reply. Far from hurt, Draco had shunned it almost immediately, his attention going to the book in question.  
  
Draco reached out for the book, pausing as he notice the quivering of his hand. He took the tome in his hand, and sat down, placing it in his lap. Draco read the title sullenly. '_Dark Arts and the Creatures that Came With it_...' Draco knew this book all to well. And yes, Harry had a right to be upset over it. It was filled with nothing but Darkness, lurid explanations on all manner of hexes, curses, and of course, the creatures that had either created, become immune, or had the capabilities to use said spells and potions. Draco sighed as he opened the book, and began to read it, brow furrowing as he found the bent page Harry had marked, supposedly the darker vampire thought he had done so inconspicuously, but Draco had noticed. His eyes only darkened with hatred towards the author of the book.  
  
---  
  
A/N: sorry this was late and short, school is hell and I had to get this out. What's in the book, you wonder? Hmm......  
  
Review, Review!!! 


	11. Finding the Elder to Learn of the Sire

A/N: Oh, I'm embarrassed now!!!! If I could blush, I would be red as a cherry! I'm such an idiot, please forgive me!!! [especially all the other girls out there, I should know how to spell that!!!!!}  
  
Hi, the next set is the excerpt from the book, as requested! Now, the guy mentioned, I have no idea who was around during that time, so I made a name up. But that shouldn't matter, please read!  
  
Disclaimer: I am not JKR. I do not work at Warner Bros. I am not old enough to drink. There. Explains my situation.  
  
Last notes...  
  
[Author's notes]  
  
**11......**  
  
_From the records of Walter Sinclair, philosopher and warlock...  
  
The day is December the fourth, in the year 1932. The air has chilled us to the bone, but our searches have been successful. We have rooted out and nearly condemned four accused vampires, all we shall see if they are truly that. Already one, an Edgar Evans, shows no weaknesses, and we have been unable to receive any information from said creature. He is being held currently in a secluded, warded off room at the School Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it being the safest and most secure position that comes to the minds of the Wizengamot. Some are saying we should make peace with the creatures, the Vampires, but I hold my doubts...  
  
The Vampires were thought to have died out, only three have been found in the past one hundred years, and they were men on their deathbeds, expelling final secrets before the last breath. But now, so many have decided to show their faces, some who were on the Wizengamot. I was not surprised to see that all were male, it must be a trait.  
  
As to whether Vampirism is brought on by being bitten or that it is hereditary, concerns me not. What matters is that, now, over fifty have banded together, in hopes of forming a treating between their kind, and ours. Little do they know, though, the preparations the wizards of the Order are preparing. They are currently employing the top potion maker of our time to concoct a tonic that will quickly dispose of the vampire it is given to...  
  
Here ends the accounts of Walter Sinclair  
  
Over the next century, the Order managed to collect information regarding the whereabouts and current situations of thirty vampires, all of whom were sought after and were promptly disposed of. Accounted information was stored away in the Department of Mysteries, both for future reference and as a chronological filing system...  
_  
And with that Draco slammed the book shut, unable to read the text any longer. He threw it down as he rose, unconcerned of where it landed, and quickly made his way up the steps, practically jumping the mall in his haste, only to find Harry still out on the balcony, deep in thought. He was leaning against the wall opposite to the right of the door, eyes almost glazed over completely. His knee was drawn up, the other leg sprawled along the cement floor, one arm resting upon said knee, while the other lying limply upon his lap. But as Draco kneeled in front of him, Harry shook his head and blinked slowly several times.  
  
"You know, you look rather dead when you do that," Draco said quietly; "If it weren't for your pulse, I'd take it you were."  
  
"I'm not," Harry said groggily; "Draco... Edgar... Edgar Evans... he was... my _grandfather_..."  
  
"What?" Draco asked; "Harry, I can understand if the book made you upset, but _really_...!"  
  
"No, I have it now," Harry said. His hands moved as he spoke; "Evans married, and sired a daughter, my mother. She then married my father, which caused her to become a Potter, hence the existence of my being and what I am..." he sighed; "What page did you read?" he asked wearily, looking at Draco with his lifeless, dulled eyes.  
  
Draco pitied him almost instantly just from the sheer look of it all, how Harry seemed so close to death, as if knocking upon its door, yet too timid to actually walk in. "The one that had the folded corner," Draco replied finally, sitting in front of Harry and crossing his legs.  
  
Harry nodded, his head turned to gaze out towards the fields and Hogsmead. He sighed, letting the silence hang like a veil of tension an dulled confusion. It made since now, most of it...  
  
"Harry, honestly," Draco said; "You are being such a drama queen," at this, Harry looked at Draco perplexedly; "You heard me," Draco said, "Just because one wizard decided to write down some stupid accounts of yester year, and then another bastard published it, does not mean a thing," he paused; "I'll have you know that if you had read ahead, you would have found that your grandfather, along with two others, escaped."  
  
"Really?" Harry asked quietly.  
  
Draco nodded. A little white lie wouldn't hurt the situation further. But was it a lie? Sabet said that Edgar Evans had been killed by the Ministry, but he_ had_ fathered a child... Draco just let the thought slide; he had no need for a headache.  
  
"Yes, really," Draco said, "Now, are you going to have a cry... or I can just _kiss_ you and make it better," he added quietly, leaning forward.  
  
One eyebrow rose skeptically on the ebony haired youth's features, and Harry smirked; "Hmm, the latter's very tempting," he mused wearily, looking at the ground and idly picking at the granite; "But I have too much on my mind at the moment..."  
  
Draco sighed, blowing his bangs from his face as he did; "Well, if it's answers you want," he said nonchalantly, sitting down and leaning back with his weight on one arm, hand pressed against the ground and dangerously close to Harry's leg. Harry saw the hand, and drew his legs up to a cross- legged position.  
  
"I'd like them," Harry said quietly, looking at Draco through his hair that neatly veiled his face.  
  
Draco looked at him, smirking; "I could make you beg," he teased cunningly, eyes glittering with malevolent mischievousness.  
  
Harry shook his head; "Guess I'll read that book again," he drawled, rising.  
  
"Hang on!" Draco rushed, taking Harry's wrist as he rose. Harry brought Draco up with him, and Draco gazed at him; "You don't have to do_ that_. That book is bad, even I won't so much as read more than I must;" he paused; "We could see Sabet, or one of the Lesser Elders if you're that desperate."  
  
"I'm _not_ desperate," Harry said hotly, wrenching his wrist from the blonde's grasp as he walked inside. Draco groaned, casting a glare to the sky, before he followed. Harry was in his room, donning a black cloak. As he fastened the last clasp, his wings appeared in a gentle flutter of midnight feathers. Draco leaned against the archway, one eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms and watched Harry.  
  
"Where are you going?" the blonde asked.  
  
"I'm going to get answers," Harry replied bluntly, casting him a look that simply read _I dare you reply_.  
  
"I thought you weren't desperate," Draco drawled, regardless.  
  
"I'm not," Harry said as he put on boots. After he did, he straightened out, and held out his hand.  
  
From the desk, a rolled parchment came, lifting from the small shelf and floating across the room, unraveling as it did. Harry caught it, and Draco moved over as his counterpart read it over. But before the blonde had a chance, the letter burst into flame in Harry's hand, and fell from his palm in a small cloud of ashes, disappearing before they ever got the chance to touch the ground.  
  
"Who was that from?" Draco inquired.  
  
"No one," Harry said simply; "I'm going out—"  
  
"Well _that's_ apparent," Draco muttered sardonically.  
  
"—And if Snape asks, tell him I'm... having a fit or something," Harry said, rolling his eyes as he walked out of his room, Draco tailing not too far behind. Harry found himself back on the balcony, and jumped onto the railing.  
  
"Be careful, will you?" Draco asked quietly.  
  
Harry turned and looked at him oddly; "I thought you'd try and keep me from doing this," he said just as so, his voice barely a whisper.  
  
"I have a feeling you'd run away if I tried," Draco said, smirking; "Go, I'll keep _ickle Snapey_ at bay, provided he comes, of course," he added.  
  
Harry nodded, and with a powerful beat of his wings, took off, his boots leaving indentations in the bar as he kicked off.  
  
Draco watched the dark figure fly higher and higher, out of sight as it mingled with the dark rain clouds. He sighed, and then turned to go to the study.  
  
He had a book to destroy. /But how?/ Draco thought, cackling in his mind as he reached said room, /Oh, the possibilities are _endless_, and I'm not short on frustration.../  
  
The book did not last very long.  
  
---  
  
Snape sat in the room, glowering. He was not happy with his current situation, being seated amongst the Order in the confines of the old room at Grimmauld Place. He was a little comforted to see Remus there, the werewolf and he having formed a friendship of sorts when it came to their vampire godsons. But the Weasleys and all the others Snape did not like, and he found it hard to tolerate them.  
  
Of course, Dumbledore had gone over the Death Eaters and Voldermort. Snape was made to stand and give his report, then he sat back down in his chair and crossed his arms, glaring at any who dared eye him. But his attention was caught when the subject came to a certain young man, one he had grown to care for as a son over the course of his stay.  
  
"What of Potter?" Kinglsey, the black wizard from the Ministry, inquired. His eyes drifted to Snape though. By now, everyone in the Order knew of Harry's whereabouts.  
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely, cleaning his spectacles with the hem of his sleeves. Snape sighed; he was going to have to stand again, he knew it.  
  
"Harry is fine," Snape said, ignoring the gasp from Molly Weasley and Minerva McGonagall. Gods, he wasn't that bad, was he? /I don't give a rat's arse what they think anyway/ Snape thought smugly.  
  
"_Hmph_," Kinglsey said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.  
  
"If I were lying, I'd be dead by now," Snape said cynically; "By one or both sides, in fact," he added, glancing ruefully at Dumbledore; "Mind you all, though, he is not the boy you think you know. You have no idea who you are dealing with..."  
  
"Oh, _do enlighten us_," Tonks muttered, rolling his eyes.  
  
"I will," Snape said, rising; "This is a young man who lived a hell of a life, and he grew up far too quickly. He hid behind masks his entire life so as to not disappoint any of _you_," his hand pointed at every face, skipping Remus of course. His hand fell, but his glare was still strong and focused.  
  
"This is a young man who still cries in his sleep from his losses and the fate so unceremoniously given to him," Snape continued; "I have been forced to stop giving him sleepless dreaming potions because they are addictive, and sometimes I wonder if he shouldn't just drink it as if it were water! You are all blind to his plight, you were, and because of that, the boy grew up not knowing love or kindness at all. All along he knew there was a veil, and all it took was the one person who considered him family to fall through a veil of his own, for realization to strike.  
  
"And strike it did. Now he knows more than you all fear for him to;" Snape's gaze finally rested on Dumbledore, who was hanging off of every word with masked regret and fear; "When he finds out everything you all have done to him, to cause his life to be molded as it has, he will surely _hate you all_..."  
  
"You helped us, you _bloody _**hypocrite**!" Fred Weasley shouted angrily, jumping up. George pulled him back into his seat.  
  
"I did no such thing!" Snape roared, outraged; "I was too busy playing spy, weaving in and amongst DEATH EATERS while you slept in your cozy warm beds! The least I wanted to do was hurt someone else, let alone a small _child_!"  
  
Fred continued to glare at him.  
  
"But why _do_ you care?" Tonks asked angrily, glaring daggers at the Potions Master.  
  
Snape turned to her, sneering; "Because," he said, "I have had enough of this. I thought I only knew what you—" he gaze glanced to Dumbledore again; "—lot made, not the boy within."  
  
"Severus, these accusations are quite outrageous," Remus said quietly.  
  
"Of course they are!" Severus said, moving away from the table, pushing his chair back as he did; "But then again, look at the age we're living in. Nothing is normal or commendable it anymore, seems," he paused; "I must leave now, it's getting late."  
  
And without another word or passing glance, save for the weary look he received from Remus, Snape left.  
  
---  
  
Flying was possibly the most lifting and calming experience Harry could have thought possible. It might have been the feeling of the wind fighting against him as he flew above the clouds, or the ever constant thought of possibly touching the stars, though that was a thought and nothing other than that was so appealing. Harry made a pact with himself that he would fly more often. He felt granted a large gift for being able to do such a feat, and relished in it greedily.  
  
He closed his eyes as he took a sudden dive, only to catch himself before he fell too close downward. Harry flew upward again, dodging around a cloud and coming once more in touch with the sky. He felt alive, a feeling he rarely had. He felt... fulfilled, like he was whole... for the most part.  
  
Harry opened his eyes as a mountainous range came into view. He had flown over the ocean, and was now in France. It was quick traveling, flying, especially once one had perfected the skill with every spare moment devoted to practice. But Harry's mind was now focused on his quarry, finding his supposed leader, the Elder of Elders, and the letter he had found in Draco's room came to mind.  
  
_ Go follow the trees where the crows roost most, then take to the left and unti the water falls from the sky. From there, journey through the tunnel of hell, then upon exit take through the eyes the sight of glowing land, and hence one's eyes shall rest upon the manor...  
_  
Harry blinked, causing the world to come back into view. He was flying over pine trees, and upon looking down confirmed the prescience of crows. The loud birds were cawing and causing all manner of disturbances. /Now, I have to go left/ Harry thought, making a sharp angular turn in said direction. He began flying slower, so that he could get to his destination taking the correct path.  
  
Soon, the sound of flowing water reached his ears. It was far off, but close enough to where Harry could even smell the crisp scent of the liquid. He followed it, like an eager hound, and soon he could see a towering cliff, a waterfall centered on it, flowing down for what seemed a hundred or so feet. Harry hovered before it, looking up, and indeed it seemed the water fell from the sky. /Too easy/ Harry thought, smirking as he shot upwards, scaling the waterfall and coming over it in a matter of seconds.  
  
Harry hovered again, looking around. Above the falls and the cliffs, it was a mere, desolate plain. /There is no way this is all in France and hidden/ Harry thought as he decided on flying straight ahead. /It's just impossible. But then, I'm dealing with ancient magic and a vampire.../ he continued flying, until he saw that the land took a sharp incline.  
  
Harry paused as he reached the hill, seeing a deep hole in the ground. Harry stared deep within it, and was satisfied when it was only a cave. Harry landed. It seemed wiser to travel this left by foot.  
  
As Harry went through the cave, sounds of bats and of dripping water, and the occasional sound of rocks falling. Soon, the path began to slant downwards, and Harry began wondering if he had taken the wrong root.  
  
Then, after half an hour or so, he stopped.  
  
There was a solid wall in his way.  
  
Harry looked at the wall, the possibility of a hidden entrance fresh on his mind. But no, there was no secret anything, just the wall of solid limestone. Sighing, Harry looked up, then mentally slapped himself.  
  
Of course, there was a small skylight, a hole in the ceiling that let moonlight come through, casting a faint shade of grey on the area. Harry spread his wings, and kicking off jetted skyward.  
  
He barely made it through the hole; it was almost too small for him to go through with his wings against his back. Harry let out the breath he had been holding, and looked around again. He breathed in the fresh, warm air, glad to be out of a world so like the ether.  
  
He stared in amazement at the ground about thirty feet below him. The plants were letting off an odd, eerie glow, giving the fields a green aura. Harry's gaze went to the skyline, and he smirked with success. Looming in the distance was a manor, a gothic mansion one might say. Harry began flying towards it, picking out the large, lit windows situated on the second floor, a parapet around them.  
  
And that is where Harry chose to land.  
  
Upon landing, Harry became on guard. He saw that there was a door off to the side, and cautiously, the youth walked over to it. A weary hand reached out and took the knob, then Harry entered the home.  
  
The room was a study/living/library room of sorts, large and vast. There were floors upon floors of books alone, and it reminded Harry greatly of Hogwarts. The center of the room was actually two steps down into the floor, a little depression that held couches, chairs, and rugs covering the stone floor. There were stone gargoyles and other fixations around the walls, but Harry's eyes fell on the figure standing by a globe that was positioned off to the side.  
  
The man was tall, lean, and almost lithe. His narrow face was handsomely even, the features placed delicately. His sparkling black eyes seemed to shine in the light, the silver evident in them. His black robes clung yet billowed around him. Long, firm fingers delicately traced an invisible path on the globe.  
  
"Ah, Mister Potter," the man said in a clear accent; "I was wondering when you would come."  
  
"Sabet?" Harry asked roughly, eyeing the man.  
  
The man chuckled and nodded; "Such brusqueness," he mused, walking away from the globe; "Yes, my name is Morste Sabet. I come from a long line of Vampires. And... I suppose that is why you are here... to have, what I will take as, _many_ questions answered."  
  
"Yes," Harry said.  
  
"Well, come over here and we'll discuss this by the fire," Sabet said kindly, walking over and sitting down in an armchair on the right of the fireplace. Harry took the one to the left, facing th e older vampire, and the questions began...

- - -

**A/N:** Mwhahaha I'm wearing the Cliffies out with this story!!! Ha-ha-ha!!!! Review, please! 


	12. Lineage and Ancient Magic

**A/N:** Sorry so much that this is late. School sucks. I hate it. I cannot stand it. I want to see my principal terminated, or decapitated, or the county can let us all have a go with the shotgun and she could have a target taped to her back...  
  
Sorry, happy thoughts!  
  
Anyway, I think people are obsessing over my story. Oh no, that cannot be healthy. Okay, here is the next interlude to my creation, but promise me all that you will live your lives and you will be patient with me.  
  
I do have a life, you know, a very interesting one. Living in Tennessee is a life full of hilarity and ironic stupidity.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing mine  
  
[Author's notes]  
  
**12......**  
  
"Well, come over here and we'll discuss this by the fire," Sabet said kindly, walking over and sitting down in an armchair on the right of the fireplace. Harry took the one to the left, facing the older vampire, and the questions began.  
  
"Tell me about us," Harry said quietly, eyes darting around the room as he sat still in the chair.  
  
Sabet's thin lips curled into a kind smile; "Of course," he said, rising; "You, Harry, are one of the gifted few to receive such a gift. Yes, having to feed off of another human is the only downside, but trust me, being a vampire is nothing less than profitable;" he paused, walking back over to the globe; "But by the tone of your voice, you are wondering about the structure of the Council, and how we... operate?" he looked over at Harry, while at the same time holding his hand over the globe. It began to glow, and thus began rotating. Harry watched it, occasionally glancing at the Elder. He nodded.  
  
Sabet nodded once; "The Council is simply structured on an independent government. A democracy, if you will. We have set guidelines for other vampires to follow and abide by, so that there will not be conflict. We cannot have more dying," he mused quietly, eyes fixed on the globe with a hazy gaze. There was a pause, one which brought tension from Harry. But Sabet spoke after a moment of pondering; "You're Grandfather was a good friend of mine, you know," he said quietly, walking away from the globe and to the windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, giving one a clear view of the mountains and lands of France. "He helped set the foundation for our structured society of today. He was quite the wizard, Harry, I can say I see him in you more than either your farther, or mother," he turned and looked at Harry, hands held behind his back; "He had dreams, visions, of what could be," he mused, looking out of the window.  
  
"Tell me about him," Harry said quietly, "And what he did."  
  
Sabet nodded, sighing; "Your father answered his calling at the age of seventeen, about the time of the First World War of the non-magical," Harry blinked at the term for Muggles. He had very rarely heard it, but he couldn't say it was a bad one; "I quickly met him," Sabet continued, "and we began corresponding, finding others like us. Soon, we had almost thirty, and together, we all found out the many advantages of being a vampire. We collected the accounts, and wrote a book on it;" at the mention of this, he walked over to one of the many bookshelves. He scanned the shelves, finally pulling out a large tome bound in maroon dragon hide. Harry recognized it immediately of a Hungarian Horntail's skin, and brief memories flashed before his eyes.  
  
Sabet walked back over, holding the tome to Harry; "You may read it," he said as Harry took it gingerly, faltering at its weight.  
  
Harry set the tome in his lap, looking at he divine cover. It was indeed Hungarian hide, and a dragon had been carved in amongst the scales. Around the dragon, there was a raven, a snake, and a fox, an eagle, all intricately carved and artistically done. Harry marveled in it. Slowly, his eyes looked up, but he found that Sabet was once again at the windows, his onyx eyes scanning the outer world.  
  
"It holds accounts of every vampire to date," Sabet explained, his tone distant and musing. His lips barely moved as he talked, Harry realized, which gave him the reason that it seemed Sabet was always humming even when he spoke.  
  
"Every?" Harry asked, looking back at the book.  
  
"Well," Sabet said, "Almost every," he paused; "Most of the vampires within there are dead."  
  
Harry looked at Sabet again. His calm face was set in hidden anger, and veiled dislike; "Was it... the Ministry?" Harry asked slowly.  
  
Sabet nodded; "Oh yes," he said, "Who else could conjure a potion that could burn the flesh of a vampire and literally compel the soul from the body through pain and mental torture?" he rounded on Harry, "That Ministry is nothing but death for a vampire who is found out;" he said lowly, "If you were to be found out, then even the Council could not hide you for long..."  
  
"Why?" Harry asked; "Surely the ministry hasn't employed some evil monster—"  
  
"They have, Harry, they have," Sabet said quietly, sighing as he again faced the windows; "After your grandfather escaped, in 1932, I believe, they hired a hybrid," he paused; "A _wizincoma_..." [A/N: pronounced why-zen-coma]  
  
"A _what_?!"  
  
"A _wizincoma_," Sabet replied; "A wizard-veela-vampire," he paused; "Only three in the world, and two are dead from old age. The third, the one the Ministry hired, is named Ellis Vander, an egotistical traitor," Sabet added with a whisper of undying hate and anger; "He found your grandfather after the Second World War, and that is when he was killed."  
  
Harry was silent. Finally, he had to ask; "But then, how was my mother born?"  
  
Sabet was silent then, thinking the answers over in his head. Harry watched him adamantly, impatiently waiting. Finally, Sabet sighed; "Your grandfather married after the first war, to a very kind witch named Marylyn. Together, they became bonded. Your grandfather used a powerful magic, and what he did allowed Marylyn to live the length as he would have. She did not die until the seventies, you know.  
  
"But, when it came to children, they did not know how to come about it. Since female offspring could not become vampires, that was not of their worries. Marylyn's worry was that her husband would be hunted down and killed, while his was that his child would be harmed. In the end, though, Marylyn conceived. But after your grandfather was killed, she came to us, the Council, for aid," he paused as he looked at Harry; "She explained her fear for the unborn child, and we all decided to assist her," he paused; "by ways of powerful, ancient magic, we stalled the gestation period. Your mother Lily was not born until 1962, nearly twenty years after she was conceived. In that time, your grandmother stayed here, where we cared for her in her weakened state," again he paused, letting the silence linger in Harry's masked shock.  
  
"It is a great deal to take in, I know," Sabet said at last; "I was here to watch your mother's birth, Harry, and her lineage came from her like waves. Though we knew she would not become a vampire, we did know that she would pass the blood through to her children, and even her children's children. She and her mother left, though, and we never heard from them after your grandmother's passing..."  
  
Harry sat there, frozen with stark reality of just how massive the situation had been, and how lucky he was to be living, let alone be a vampire. He finally nodded, rising with the book under his arms; "Thank you," he managed; "That is what I wanted to know," he said quietly, looking at the ground. The news and family history had struck home, violently uplifting the plate that Harry had built to shield his heart. It was fast deteriorating.  
  
Sabet nodded, walking over and placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked at him, and the older vampire smiled warmly; "Remember Harry," he said; "What you are is Fate, but your life is Destiny. Do not let Fatigue wear you down. Now," he said, hand leaving Harry's shoulder as he walked towards the window; "If you are weary, you may stay here the night. But if you are to return home, you may take the south winds. They will guide you back to Scotland."  
  
Harry's eyes widened in annoyance and surprise; "You mean there was _an easier way of getting here_?!" he shouted.  
  
Sabet looked at him and smirked; "Of course," he said.  
  
"Then _why_ did I have to take _the long way_?!"  
  
"Well," Sabet said; "I did not know you would come. The way you took was a charmed path. If you had not been a vampire, the ravens would have attacked you. If you made it to the falls, they would drown you. And if you made it to the plateau, the rocks would have stoned you. And if you reached the cave by some miracle, the walls would have collapsed upon you;" he paused; "The fields would have healed you had you gotten that far, for even a lucky mortal deserved a grand reward," he paused; "Life is full of tests, getting here to my manor was merely a small one."  
  
"Oh, and what _would_ be a greater one?" Harry asked; his teenage defiance showing in his tone.  
  
Sabet's smirk became a pleasant smile. He watched Harry, who was getting annoyed at how the vampire was suddenly acting like Albus Dumbledore, minus the secrecy, of course.  
  
"Living, of course. That is the greatest test for such a vampire as you, Harry."  
  
- - -  
  
Draco paced in the study, engrossed in worry. Torn, scorched, and other wise destroyed fragments of the book lay about him, bare feet treading over the mess. Draco gnawed his bottom lip sore and red as he thought. It had been nine hours since Harry had departed, and Snape hadn't returned yet, either.  
  
Draco could dismiss his godfather's absence, for he knew there was a Death Eaters meeting tonight. But Harry had been gone too long. Draco was paranoid as he thought of Harry being found and taken away, or possibly harmed. Though Draco knew Harry was more than capable of handling his own, that did not stop the fretting.  
  
"_I sound like a sodding girl_," Draco muttered aloud, stopping and promptly sitting down on the floor and crossing his legs and arms. He pouted, for no apparent reason other than habit at not knowing everything. IT irked him to no end that he didn't know where Harry was. He was being overly protective, he knew, but he had taken the since of "boyfriend" to a new level entirely.  
  
After ten minutes of brooding, Draco had not moved. He looked around the room, eyeing the mess he had created. He saw half of the book cover hanging from the ceiling lamp, the other on the desk, and the binding on the shelf of the bookcase. The pages were everywhere, some piles of dust from where he had lit them ablaze and destroyed the flames. Draco took pride in the mess for some reason, like some five year old child. He had destroyed the evil wretched book.  
  
A slight grumble from his stomach caused Draco to look down, and he frowned. Standing, Draco trudged out of the study and into kitchen. He looked around at the cabinets, dreading at the fact he'd have to try to cook on his own. It was too late to travel to Hogsmead and get something, all of the stores and shops and pubs were closed. Draco walked over to the icebox, opening the door.  
  
Harry was right, there was not much in there, and even less appetizing things. Draco realized most were ingredients for potion-making, not food. At this Draco chuckled. The thought the Harry had considered that these items could be cooked made him smile. Draco closed the door, leaning against it and sighing forlornly.  
  
Harry was a good cook, and Draco was hungry. So where was Harry, and why wasn't he eating by now? Draco glowered, looking at the small clock on the wall. It was three in the morning.  
  
"Stupid Potter," Draco seethed as he left the kitchen and took the stairs; "Not being around to cook when I'm hungry... why did he have to go off and leave me... it's his fault," he said as he walked into his room, plopping down on the bed and taking a textbook. He had homework to finish up, all the while falsely blaming Harry for everything that was initially Draco's doing. He was just acting like a spoiled prat, as always.  
  
Draco worked in silence fo almost an hour before he detected, or rather felt, the familiar presence come to the house. Jumping from his bed, he rushed to the hall and to the balcony, just in time to see Harry jumping from the railing. Draco tackled him, sending both to the ground. Harry had the wind knocked from him, and he let out a groan as his head hit the cement.  
  
"Where have you been?!" Draco asked, eyeing Harry critically as he sat on the other vampire; "I was worried sick! And I'm starving!"  
  
"Well, get off me!" Harry said roughly, pushing Draco off.  
  
Draco landed on his butt ungracefully, frowning; "And don't frown, Draco, I'm a little worked, okay?" Harry said as he rose. But he helped Draco up as well. Harry studied him, his gaze softening; "Sorry," he said, sighing as he looked away; "I just... it's been a long night..."  
  
Draco nodded slightly, and then he saw the book Harry had cradled under his arm. The blonde vampire held his breath; "What?" Harry asked.  
  
"It's _the Book of Ages_!" Draco exclaimed; "Harry, did Sabet give it to you? Did he? Oh my gods, that's amazing, you actually have it!"  
  
Harry eyed Draco, confused; "Calm down!" he said, "Just breathe, Draco! What's so important about this book, anyway?"  
  
"Only that it has accounts of nearly every Vampire, including those who initially founded the council!" Draco replied; "Harry, that book is priceless! You hold in your hands the most valuable item to any vampire!" he added in a hushed voice; "Sabet must have wanted you to read it if he gave it to you willingly."  
  
Harry looked at the book, and sighed; "I'm not up to reading it," he said finally, looking at Draco; "I'm kind of worn out."  
  
Draco nodded, taking the book and carrying it inside. Harry followed, watching as Draco walked into his, Harry's, room. Harry went in as well, seeing Draco set the book down on the desk and then sit himself down on the bed. He watched Harry.  
  
"So, what did Sabet tell you?" he asked, crossing his legs; "That is, if you're up to telling me."  
  
"Sure, you're bound to find out anyway;" Harry said, smiling slightly with a chuckle. As he took his cloak off and changed into more comfortable attire he retold his encounter, and by the time he had finished the sun was near rising and he was sitting the bed as well, Draco taking in every word.  
  
"And then I flew back here," Harry finished; "I'm still pissed that there was an easier way to get to that house..." he muttered, leaning back against the pillows.  
  
Draco crawled over; "Hmm, I'm sure," he said quietly, resting beside Harry. He wrapped and arm around the dark haired youth, who in turn rolled onto his side to get a better view of the blonde. Draco's index finger ghosted down Harry's jaw, and the vampire closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Draco smiled slightly, moving closer to Draco. Harry wrapped his arms around him tightly, and Draco nestled his face in the crook of Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Mmm you're very clingy, you know that?" Harry murmured, smirking and chuckling quietly.  
  
Draco nodded, closing his eyes and trying to get closer to Harry.  
  
"I'm sorry," he mumbled after a few minutes.  
  
"About what?" came Harry's tired reply.  
  
"For blaming you..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"When you were gone, I got mad and started blaming you for stupid shit... I'm sorry..."  
  
"Whatever, Draco, just go to sleep..."  
  
"...Okay..."  
  
- - -  
  
Snape grumbled as he Aparated to his home, after returning from the Death Eater meeting. He walked into his house through the side door, walking through the kitchen and into the hallway. He began for the stairs, but froze. He slowly turned and saw the Study.  
  
"_Draco_..."  
  
---  
  
**A/N:** Oh, I ended it in Fluff again. Oh well, Harry needed a hug.  
  
Anyway, sorry, but here ya go. Short, but there ya go. I had to get it out. Oh, something happened. The old beach tree I've been using to hang all of my flaming reviews in has subsequently burned to the ground, so I need to find a new one.  
  
Also, Harry still has to repay Draco =ahem pun in that cough intimate scene cough= I need ideas on how he will. Anyone have any suggestions? I very optimistic! Remember, has to be R or under. Sorry, no NC-17. 


	13. Physical, Mental, and Ancestrial Frustra...

**A/N:** First off, after rereading my reviews, I came along a simple, easily excusable mistake. But everyone please take note that I am **FEMALE**. Thank-you

All-right, I gots a reviewer from Tennessee! wazzup! well, all I can tell you is that i live in the Eastern Region of said state. yes, most schools are starting on that day. my school is very weird though, we've been in for nearly a month and a half now. Oh well =sigh=.

Oh YEAH, we're past the **200** reviews mark! Par-tay!!!  
  
Oh, about the whole Edgar wife sex= Lily but no Petunia thing. Yes, I'm not done yet, just wait and see what I have in my mind. =laughs= oh the chaos!!!!!

**I have also recently posted a story, of the Inuyasha kind, called "wishing for the rain". there's only one chapter now, but it might show pormise. I'm asking for someone to read it, if they could.  
**  
_Disclaimer: Nothing mine  
_  
[Author's notes]

**-=-=-=-=-=-=13=-=-=-=-=-=-**

Harry woke, to find Draco gone. But the smell of bacon and eggs wafted up to his senses as he rose, and Harry dismissed worry. He got up and stretched, muscles rippling and joints popping. Harry yawned as he rubbed his back, then he walked out of his room, and down the stairs. As he reached the kitchen he saw Draco was at the table, eating breakfast quickly. He looked up at Harry, and Harry smirked as he too sat down. Snape was no where to be seen. But there was a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table. Harry eyed it as he rose, moving way as if the paper were poisonous to be around. He instead went and took eggs from the tray that rested on the counter, and then he gathered a pan from the lower cabinet. Draco watched him the entire time.  
  
"What's the matter?" he asked, though the answer he knew already.  
  
Harry shrugged; "Things," he replied simply, cracking the eggs and pouring the contents into the heating pan. He crushed the shells, blew the dusty remains into the air, and they disappeared with his exhaled breath. Harry smirked at this, before watching the eggs in the pan simmer and cook.  
  
"What _kind_ of things?" Draco asked nonchalantly, picking up the paper and idly flipping through it.  
  
"School, my grandfather, my mother, my family," Harry replied in the same tone, holding his hand over the pan. The eggs flipped themselves, causing another smirk to form on Harry's lips. But it was gone, like the dust, as he began to think on said topics.  
  
"Harry, you shouldn't think so much," Draco said, eyes never leaving the paper; "Besides getting a possibly horrid headache, one could go mad from such. Oh, _who would believe_," he suddenly mused, having read an article that caused mild surprise.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, moving to get a plate.  
  
" '_Former Hogwarts Student and Gryffindor Angelina Johnson was attacked yesterday, after returning to her flat from a Chudley Cannons try-out. The young lady had hopes of replacing former chaser Donald Conner [made the name up], but unfortunately she was stopped just outside her home by a group of Death Eaters. Johnson suffered the effects of the Unforgivable Cruciatus Curse, but is making a speedy recovery at St. Mungo's, specialists say. The Dark Mark was found above her home, but it was quickly removed from the skies by Ministry Officials'_... And then it goes on about Johnson and how she was such a 'promising' youth for the wizarding world," Draco snorted; "Can't say I agree with the Death Eaters, but then I _did_ have a dislike for Johnson..."  
  
"She _was_ a cocky bitch," Harry muttered; "But she didn't deserve it," he mused. Though he seemed calm and distant, Harry was boiling with anger inside. Anything that had to do with Voldemort always caused him spite and hate, he couldn't explain it exactly, but it did.  
  
"Were there witnesses?" Harry asked as he shoveled eggs onto the plate with more force than he intended.  
  
Draco shook his head as he read the rest of the article; "No," he said, laying the paper down; "And Johnson never got a good look at them, it says," he rose, taking his plate to the sink and putting it in there. Immediately, the water ran and the platter began washing itself. Draco levitated his silverware and glass in, wondering why he hadn't just done so in the first place. He mentally shrugged it off, and turned to face Harry.  
  
Harry eyed him as he got silverware; "I'm going to eat in the study," he said, and so saying left Draco alone in the kitchen.  
  
The entire time he and Harry had been in the same room, Draco had tried again and again to get into Harry's mind. But Harry had managed to block him out. That, or Draco wasn't powerful enough. /Nonsense/ he thought at that. /He's just upset is all/.  
  
Just then, Draco heard a tapping at the window. His head jerked around, and his gaze fell on Oswarae. The raven was perched on the sill, expectantly tapping on the window again. Rolling his eyes, the Window opened at Draco's whim, and the bird flew in, perching on the back of a chair and facing the blonde.  
  
=/Master left last night, and now he be frustrated/= the bird sent to Draco.  
  
=/Of course,_ genius_/= Draco replied.  
  
=/Is ye master's mate yet?/= the raven inquired, flying over and landing on Draco's shoulder.  
  
=/um..._ no_.../= Draco replied.  
  
He then cried out in pain as Oswarae bit his ear rather hard.  
  
As the raven let out a cackling caw and flew from the kitchen, Draco shouted in rage; "Damn you, Oswarae, I'll kill you!!!!" the blonde then covered the distance after the bird.  
  
But as Draco saw the bird fly into the study, he gave up immediately. He peered in to see Oswarae perched on Harry's shoulder, leaning over and reading the book his master had in his lap. Draco recognized it as the Book of Ages. The temptation to read it was overwhelming, but Draco thought against it. Harry was deep in thought, and in such a state as he was in, Draco was not up to risking his head in an argument. Sighing, he turned to the stairs, intent on a shower.  
  
But just as he neared the top, he heard a familiar, worn voice call; "Draco, come here for a second..."  
  
Sighing again, Draco turned and walked back to the study. Harry was still reading, But Oswarae was watching him. Was that a _smirk_ playing on the raven's features? Draco only glared as he walked over to the couch and shooed the bird, who cawed indignantly as it departed. Harry never once looked up.  
  
"What?" Draco asked calmly, watching form the corner of his eye as Oswarae landed on the back of the desk chair. The bird had an affinity for such things, Draco concluded, but he forgot it as Harry replied.  
  
"Do know who you got you vampire blood from?" the dark-haired youth inquired, looking at the blonde.  
  
Draco shrugged; "I suppose my father," he mused, leaning against the armrest as he did.  
  
"You're wrong," Harry said blatantly, pointing at the text as he looked back at the pages; "It's your mother's father who gave it to you."  
  
"Really?" Draco asked, leaning over. His head rested so close to Harry's open neck it hurt him, but Draco tried—and again I say he tried—to will the thoughts down for later.  
  
Harry nodded; "Yes," he said, "And apparently, her last name was... _Malfoy_."  
  
Draco gasped.  
  
- - -  
  
Dumbledore sat in his office at Hogwarts, preparing for the upcoming arrival of students. He had worn himself ragged pouring over parchments, writing letters, sending drafts, and of course keeping up correspondents with the Order. Now, he stared at a recently discovered text, courtesy of the school's Restricted Section of the Library. But the information he desired was not in the writings, so he sighed and closed the book. His old, dexterous hand rested over it, and he removed his spectacles with his other. He rubbed his eyes and temples wearily, another tiresome sigh escaping parted lips.  
  
Dumbledore felt his age for the first time in years, decades, even. He truly felt old and withered, as if the spry skip in his step had been killed mercilessly by the large ax of Father Time. He looked over as his phoenix cooed softly.  
  
Fawkes watched his master wearily. It was not right to sense such disturbance from the wizard, even when times seemed at their worst. Dumbledore was never this on edge, this frustrated, this... confused? That was not something the intelligent creature had expected to conclude with.  
  
Dumbledore rose from his chair, walking over to his window and peering outside. The lake sparkled, and the grounds glittered with morning dew. The sun had risen into a cloudless sky, to greet an unknowing world that would spin and turn, oblivious to the turmoil within the old man. Dumbledore crossed his arms, not wanting the day to start so well. If it had been raining, perhaps his mood would not be so deplorable. The sound the of the water hitting against the castle walls and windows, echoing through the halls to the very center of it all... it would have calmed him so that he could get his thoughts arranged. But no; it was too quiet, too serene, too innocently warm for a September morning.  
  
Dumbledore let yet another sigh escape him, and Fawkes cooed again, worriedly. The wizard dismissed it.  
  
- - -  
  
"M-M-M-_Malfoy_?!" Draco repeated, jumping up and his hands taking his hair. He shook his head and closed his eyes, muttering; "No, no, _no_," over and over again. Did this mean he was a result of incest, or that his father had taken his mother's name instead? He seriously hoped, prayed, wished that it was the latter.  
  
Harry watched his boyfriend, slowly rising and setting the book aside; "Draco," he said, "Draco!" he repeated again, causing the blonde to stop and look at him; "I know it doesn't mean you're an incest child, so calm down!"  
  
Draco let his hands fall, sitting down and staring at the ground. He continued to shake his head though, small little motions of his fingers twitching accompanying it. Harry sat down beside him, taking Draco's shuddering hand in his.  
  
"Calm down," Harry repeated; "I was only wondering. There was no need to get worked up over it all."  
  
"I never knew this," Draco said, his voice rising in pitch slightly as he held back a sob; "I never knew this _at all._ I knew there was something they kept from me, and I never thought it was this. I always thought that maybe... maybe it was that I was veela, but that isn't true..." he leaned against Harry, heaving a sigh; "You've no idea what is happening, me now knowing this..." Draco muttered, closing eyes.  
  
Had he known the action that followed, Harry would not have breathed to mention it. He had only been curious; he hadn't meant to send Draco into a short burst of a panic attack. But it was passing rapidly, though Draco was silent.  
  
Finally the blonde spoke; "Do you think that... my father... knew about it?" Draco asked quietly, looking up at Harry.  
  
Harry shrugged; "I'm sorry, but I don't," he replied quietly, leaning back. He allowed Draco to lay against his chest, the blonde heaving another sigh as he closed his eyes again; "Hey, it's not that big of a deal," Harry said, idly running a hand up and down Draco's spine; "So you're father took you mother's name, what's the big deal? Wait, I can answer that," he said suddenly, "Pureblood standards, am I correct in saying?"  
  
During this time, Oswarae clicked his beat and flew from the room, already sensing what was coming.  
  
Draco nodded, holding his hands under his chin as he lay there. Harry nodded; "Well, think outside of the box," Harry said, "Perhaps there was a reason for it."  
  
"Yes, but what reason, you wonder," Draco murmured, looking at Harry.  
  
"I really wouldn't want to think on it," Harry said, "No offense to you, of course, but you're family is not exactly on my list of 'things to think about'."  
  
Draco nodded; "Understandable," he stated, "But it still doesn't aid in my current mental situation..."  
  
Harry pulled the blonde to him, until their faces were so close they could feel the other's breath. Harry closed his eyes and kissed Draco, briefly but enough to promote a groan from the blonde. Harry pulled away.  
  
"I hope that might have calmed some things," he said quietly.  
  
Draco shuddered, closing his eyes as Harry's hand ran up his shirt and along bare skin; "You've no idea what frustration I'm under," he mumbled, lips barely moving as he leaned his head back and to the left.  
  
Harry smirked; "I might," he said; "I think I'm the cause of said frustration, anyway..." he whispered, hand leaving Draco's skin to gently take the blonde's chin. Draco hummed a groan, and Harry leaned forward to capture Draco's lips in a heated kiss. Draco allowed him entrance, and soon tongues dueled. But just as Draco thought it would actually get somewhere, Harry parted away. Slowly, Draco opened his eyes, and moaned.  
  
"Why won't you just stop playing this game?" Draco asked, pulling his chin from a smirking Harry's grasp; "I'm sexually frustrated, and I'm not about to go find someone else to get my fill! _I want you_..."  
  
Harry's smirk fell, and he gazed at Draco seriously. Draco matched his gaze, shifting his weight to where he straddled the dark-haired youth below him. The action was slow, methodical, even uncertain.  
  
"Draco, you mean tha..." Harry began, but Draco kissed him, silencing the sentence.  
  
- - -  
  
Dumbledore watched as clouds started to form in the darkening sky, grey and white mingling. Soon, rain graced the land, and he smirked malevolently. At least now he had a damper on his foul mood, one that was steadily worsening regardless.  
  
There came a knock at the door, and Dumbledore turned to it, covering his malice with a solid and calm appearance; "Come in," he said loudly, and it opened.  
  
Remus Lupin stepped in slowly, cautious were his actions, and he steadily said; "You called, Albus?"  
  
"Yes, Remus, I did," Dumbledore said, sighing and sitting down behind his desk; "Please Remus, sit."  
  
Remus eyed the man wearily, then obliged, taking a seat before the large mahogany desk. Dumbledore watched the werewolf for a time, before smiling slightly and asking, "So Remus, how is Harry fairing?"  
  
"I suppose he is fine," Remus said nonchalantly, crossing his arms casually, elbows on the armrests.  
  
"Ah, come now, Remus, I know you've been to see him at least once," Albus prodded, attempting to get information.  
  
But Remus was not naive, he was very smart in knowing the art used for reverse psychology. He coolly replied; "I have seen him once, Albus, and he is doing fine, as I have said."  
  
"Did you notice anything... different, about the boy?"  
  
"The _young man_ was quite content, Albus, I can tell you that. I've never seen him that happy in quite a while."  
  
Dumbledore nodded; "Then there is nothing wrong?" he inquired; "I hear that Severus is housing Draco Malfoy as well. Isn't that causing a problem?"  
  
Remus appeared indifferent by it all; "Not that I could tell," he replied smoothly.  
  
- - -  
  
Harry broke the kiss, eyeing Draco; "Is_ that_ all you want?" he asked incredulously, rising. The action caused Draco to fall to the floor, but the blonde quickly picked himself up.  
  
"I - Harry, it's just frustrating!" Draco crooned at Harry's back, and the youth stopped from exiting the room.  
  
Harry slowly turned, facing Draco again; "_Frustrating_?!" he repeated, "I'll tell you what's _frustrating_, Draco. Try having to sort through your own thoughts just to get out of bed every morning. Try having to deal with the fact that your entire life is crumbling from its very foundation! Try having to deal with the entire world on your shoulders, everyone's eye on you, half-hoping you'll screw up just so they have something to complain about! Try dealing with the fucking Dark Lord himself trying to break into your head like it's a vault at bloody Gringotts!" Harry growled and swung his fist, turning and slamming it into the wall.  
  
The fist left a deep impression in the wall, and as Harry pulled his hand away to see the damage, his face went blank with mild shock. The wall was quickly beginning to glow, and the edges of the indentation were blackening. Harry didn't know what was going on, but he did not fear it. He willed the glow to die, and it did. He then focused on the small ring of break, and it too, lost the life it seemed to possess.  
  
"Harry," Draco said breathlessly, staring at the wall; "_You_..."  
  
"_I've needed to do that for a long time_," Harry muttered, glaring at the wall before leaving.  
  
Draco watched him go, silent. He walked over to it, hand tracing the ring. It was heated, causing his skin to burn, yet not in a searing way. It seemed like cold fire, or hot ice, licking at his fingertips and slowly traveling up to his shoulder. Draco quickly stepped back, eyes widening in fear.  
  
He then darted up the stairs and after Harry.  
  
- - -  
  
Harry ran into his room, literally attacking his trunk in his haste as he dug through the contents. He retrieved a small mahogany box, tore it open, and retrieved the dagger Sirius had given him. Harry's eyes glazed over in thought as he took the blade from its sheathe, marveling in the simplistic yet utterly multifaceted object. One drag across his wrist and it would be over. He had tried it before, and if he really did allow the blade to do its justice, he would end it all...  
  
Harry hand shook slightly as he raised the blade. 

**TBC**

**A/N:** well, the thirteenth installment of our little tale. And a cliffhanger yet again, I see. I do hope you enjoyed it, though I know the ending more than pissed the lot of you off. I'll have chapter fourteen up in no time, though, I promise.  
  
I've decided that all angst shall be dealt with before another little intimate scene. Glad to see that some of you are reading my author's notes, though, and I thank you.  
  
_Will Harry kill himself? Will Draco get there in time?_ You'll see  
  
_What is Dumbledore so frustrated about_? You'll see...  
  
_Will Remus crack?_ Hell no.  
  
_Do I see red hair and a brown bushy head in the distance?_ God yes, hurry, ready the pots of burning oil! 

Just kidding... maybe....

And what's this, a lost doggie?  
  
**Review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **


	14. The Morose Depression in my Soul

**A/N:** First off, I want to thank everyone for reviewing.

I have been trying for weeks now to find a person who would consider drawing a picture for me. I would soooooooo appreciate it. The picture I'm thinking of is one of Harry and Draco leaning back-against-back in dark cloaks. Draco's glancing at Harry, while Harry's glaring at the ground. They're both sitting on the armrests of a large thrown, and a small amulet, of any color, I wouldn't mind, is in the seat. You could have a headshot of Sabet, then two of Snape and Remus, in the background. Have a shaft of light falling on them. =Oooh, so pretty=

That would be a challenge, anyone up for it?

Oh YEAH, now we're past the **230** reviews mark! Par-tay!!!

I have a wonderful new reviewer, who deserves mentioning. Hello, **Kaetian**! Thank you so much for that review, I did not mind its length at all! You're absolutely right about Harry's inability to Apparate, dead on the mark, you are.

Tennessee, at least in the region I live in, is very, VERY mountainous, and very, very odd. We have an assortment of races, all mingled together and being attacked and bashed as a whole by the KKK! No, kidding, but we've got that... [yes, the KKK is reffered to as IT and THAT] too. Anyway, the summers are horrid, and we only get snow once every five years. I swear it's true; our snow is on a cycle. Winters don't get too cold unless, like I do, you live ON A FRIGGIN MOUNTAIN. But I wouldn't trade it for the world, I just love it here. Nothing boring about it really!

I'm also rather sorry about your friends, I know it's a common thing but still... it must have been horrible for you. I can relate.

And thank-you for understanding that I am not some sick perverted freak! I thank-you twice over!

I recently uploaded a story of the Inuyasha kind called "Wishing for the Rain". There's only one chapter, but please consider reading it.

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine_

[Author's notes]

****

****

**-=-=-=-=-=-=13=-=-=-=-=-=-**

Hand shaking madly, Harry lowered the blade. At which point, Draco bounded in, crying out; "Harry!" as he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Harry, pinning the dark-haired youth's arms to his sides. Harry only shivered and closed his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as if her were a cadaver. Draco wrenched the knife from his loose hand, and threw it to the side, only for the blade to impale the wall.

"What in _the_ hell are you thinking?" Draco asked, turning Harry around, though he was not as gentle as intended. Harry only shook his head.

The void was so close, if he had only fallen in, he could be lost forever. But... Harry wanted to be found... didn't he? The thoughts were overwhelming, said issue being on of the more prominent. All of his burdens were weighing him down; as if he were carrying a giant boulder like the sculpture he had seen once in books. The weight, so slowly crushing his soul, had almost won him over; it had almost done him in...

Harry groaned and gently pushed Draco back, lying on the floor. His hands gripped his hair as his eyes tightly closed, face pale with the reality at the act he had tried to commit. Draco helplessly watched him, vaguely feeling the hopeless sense of a lost child in a crowded room. It came from Harry, but Draco could find no way of solace for his companion. Quietly, he scooted over, wrapping an arm around Harry and pulling the boy up, aided by his inherited strength. Harry allowed it, not caring to fight the warm embrace.

_So wrong..._

_For so long..._

_So the truth comes out at last_

He felt cold, trapped in the hollow of his soul. Vaguely, he heard soft whispering, could feel a gentle touch to his hair and face, but could not distinguish it. But he knew who the gentle nurturing came from. If only he could get out. But his mind was a safe haven, it had been and forever would be, he knew. No one could get him here, not even the most powerful of creatures. Inwardly he sighed as darkness threatened the boundaries around him, eager to consume his spirit and drag it mercilessly inward, deeper, farther away...

He would stay this time. He would not be dead, but he would not be considered leaving. But guilt of what he would leave behind unnerved him. Yet he willed away as he finished sealing himself away...

_I'm dead inside_

_(I'm burning up)_

_A hollow shell_

_(My private hell)_

_In my own misery_

_They leave me to dwell_

"Harry," Draco whispered, resting Harry's head in his lap; "Please, come back;" he said softly and helplessly, his hand ghosting over Harry's bangs.

Harry's hands had since gone limp, and his eyelids were closed generally now, not deliberately. His breath was faint, and each intake was few and far between. Draco worried, torn between running for help and simply waiting it out. He chose the latter, inwardly hoping that his godfather would return from "business".

Draco decided upon trying again; "Harry," he said, "Harry, can you hear me?" he paused, fingers ghosting over the young man's chilling cheek. Draco froze at the temperature... such a lack of heat in skin.

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, laying said vampire on his back upon the floor; "Harry, come back!" Draco bellowed, shaking the teen.

Harry only moved his head to the side, his eyes opening slowly and gazing up at Draco. There was no reflection in them. They absorbed all of the light that hit them. Draco's stomach knotted with fear at the sight of Harry's eyes, and he hastily focused his gaze elsewhere, on the collar of Harry's old shirt.

"Harry, damn you come back to me!" Draco yelled, groaning as he held Harry's shoulders in his hands, lifted up about an inch, and let go. The thud that followed gave wind to know promise, and Draco's anger and anxiety boiled together in one unstable cauldron of his soul.

_Spiritual Isolation - The ultimate frustration_

_Scratch the surface, turn another page_

_The ugly truth or another pretty lie_

_They deceived me, I believed them_

_Why did everything go..._

"Harry, don't make me follow you inward!" Draco pleaded as his right palm began to glow a vibrant black. Inhaling sharply, his hand met Harry's chest, and Draco gasped as he was thrown forward, from his body, and was drawn to the darkness he soon began to see.

It was thick, like fog hanging in the air. It was consuming, like being trapped within churning sand. Draco couldn't breathe; his hands went to his neck in reflex. His knees began to shake, and he fought to keep his thoughts in order, but they seemed to scatter, merge, and attack all at once, then separate before coming together to repeat the attack. Like flocking birds on a rampage...

Draco closed his eyes, focusing on whatever he could. First his thoughts were on his mother, but she soon faded, then he centered on Snape, and that failed. He tried school, Hogsmead, Quidditch, but nothing worked. Finally, when he thought his mind would explode and his heart would collapse into his soul, he focused on the owner of the turbulent realm.

_Harry..._

At once, the weighty feeling of it all began to fade, though it remained. Draco was able to remove his hands from his neck and chance a look around. Before him was nothing but darkness, but he could barely make out the faint glint of something, maybe resembling scales. To answer his query there was a low, deep hissing noise, and then all was quiet, so deathly quiet. Draco was standing beneath a shaft of light, and it was so bright he could not look up at it. He covered his face, peering out between his arms to see another shaft of light, a figure standing below it. At once Draco knew it was Harry, and Draco's arms fell as he shouted out.

"Harry!"

The figure turned, and Draco held his breath. It was Harry, but not as he had ever been seen. Gaunt cheekbones, frail bones surrounded by thin muscle, all covered by skin so pale it was translucent. His clothing was so baggy and tattered it made Draco pitiable and disgusted all at once. What was supposed to be Green in his eyes was a sullen grey, cloudy and distantly morose.

This couldn't be Harry's soul.

"Draco," came the echoing, hollow reply from the Soul.

"Harry," Draco managed; "Why... how... what happened to you? You look..."

"_Horrible_?" the Soul finished, laughing dryly, a deadpan tone of morose depression and indifference.

"Yes," Draco finished, quietly.

"I'm surprised you came," the Soul said; "You must care for me if you'd do this..."

"You mean Harry's been testing me?" Draco asked.

"In a way," the Soul replied; "I haven't had the best of lives, and trust isn't something I just give away freely. Besides, a relationship, commitment, it is something I am afraid of. And... love is a foreign thing. After I've been lied to, it's hard to tell what is real anymore..."

Draco paused. The soul was Harry's, though the reality was brutal and unwanted. Draco gulped, before asking; "Could you tell me why you're so... _so_..."

"Like I am?" the Soul finished, and Draco nodded; "You can give the credit _to the Wizarding World _and _my cousin_..."

"Then why is it so dark?" Draco asked, looking around and motioning with his arms.

"Isn't it though?" the soul mused, sighing as it too, glanced around; "It's a _sanctuary_, the place in my mind I can run to. I'm _safe_ here. _Nothing_ can get to me. I'm never leaving again..."

"You're afraid of someone hurting you?" Draco asked quietly.

"I'm afraid of the guilt," the Soul replied morosely; "It weighs you down as if you're carrying a mass so great it cannot be fathomed!" the Soul wailed.

"What's the guilt from, then?" Draco asked.

"All the deaths because of me," the Soul muttered, shaking its head as the hollow eyes gazed crazily at Draco.

"Deaths?"

"_Lily, James, Sirius, Cedric, Hedwig_..."

"Harry, none of those deaths were your fault!" Draco shouted desperately.

But the soul continued to mourn; "And all my life I suffered, and no one heard me!" the ringing voice echoed with anguish, seeming to shake the very structure; "And I was lied to, I _knew_! BUT I IGNORED IT! I ALONE AM TO BLAME FOR THIS!!!! ONLY ME!!!!"

"Harry, no, don't tell yourself that!" Draco shouted.

"My entire fault, everything, down to the last drop of blood," the soul murmured continuous, like some grim chant of the hell that had been created here, in the dark cavernous pit in which Harry's soul resided.

"Harry, just shut _the fuck_ _up_!" Draco roared; "It's not your fault, it never was, and for gods sake don't be the martyr, be selfish!!!!!"

The Soul was quiet, looking away; "_Leave, before you die too_," it suddenly whispered fearfully, glaring at Draco. But the fear and nervousness was evident in the dull green eyes; "Just leave me alone so you won't get hurt..."

Draco was taken aback by the volume, but yelled back; "I won't! You need help, Harry! I want to help you!"

"Just leave me alone... I don't need any help..."

"You need to return to the living, Harry, where it's safe!"

"It's safe here, so just go!"

"You think holing yourself up in your mind will solve anything, Harry? Well it won't! You'll rot away at this rate! Look at you! You're skinny, haphazard and depressed, and you think 'hiding away' will solve anything? What kind of Gryffindor are you if you run?"

"I'm no Gryffindor!" the Soul said weakly; "I wasn't meant to be!"

"You think being a Gryffindor automatically makes you brave and fearless?" Draco shouted; "It doesn't! Who are you to be called by name when one even runs from themselves?"

The Soul was quiet; "Just go," it pleaded desperately; "just_... go_," it repeated, clutching its head and dropping to its knees.

But Draco wouldn't go. He had a plan brewing, a spell he remembered his mother teaching him. Calmly, he sighed, and then took a step forward.

When his foot did not fall through, Draco continued, the light following him as he went to the Soul. The Soul cried out hoarsely, backing up to sit straight, as if against a wall, and had its knees drawn up slightly.

Draco bent down, and the soul looked at him. Latin words flowed from the blonde's articulate mouth, and he said softly...

"_What a soul to be if to hide from what you cannot see_

_What a fool to know nothing of what you used to call something_

_Closed up in darkness, lost and thoughtless_

_Hear my voice and acknowledge me, for it is I who takes note of your plea..._"

"_No_," the Soul breathed quietly, covering eyes with pale, bony and scarred hands.

But Draco continued...

"_You of weary Fate, whose path is wounded, far from straight_

_Restless and weary to see with vision so bleary_

_A countless many dire fights and lonely, pain-stricken nights_

_Hear my voice and acknowledge me, for it is I who answers your plea..._"

"Please, leave me be," the Soul gasped, beginning to mourn, to cry, silently.

But the blonde vampire was unhampered...

"_Scars from life run so deep, stains of crimson on your hands you keep_

_Release the shards and rest for now, no need to remind you how_

_A path so suffering with the strength I give you to go on living_

_But such pain cannot be taken; you must heal most alone without your heart breaking_

_Hear my voice and acknowledge me, for it is I who has quieted your plea..._"

And the soul screamed out, a keening, echoing sound of horrible torment and the failure of defeat, of the upheaval Draco had committed.

And around Draco, the world began to collapse, chunks of darkness falling away to let in a grey hue of light. Whispering the counter spell, Draco felt the force of reality tugging at the back of his head, and soon he was jettisoned backward, out of the realm and into his body.

Draco's eyes snapped open as he was thrown from Harry, crashing into the desk with such force that the desk broke. Draco groaned, leaning his head back against what was left of the stand, and looked over at Harry.

Harry hadn't moved, but his eyes had begun to brighten with life. Draco sighed as he moved to stand, but a pang of pain in his shoulder held his fast to his current position, splayed out and leaning against the desk.

Draco rose from the desk, succeeding to stand with little pain. Quietly and cautiously he walked over to Harry, unsure of the youth's reactions, be there any at all. Draco bent down and looked Harry over, hand gently resting over his chest again, feeling warmth through the sheer material of the shirt. Draco sighed thankfully, inclining his head as he rested his eyes. He opened them to see Harry's gaze fixed on the ceiling, a single tear gently running down his face, only to fall and land on the hard wood of the floor. Draco gently wiped the tear-stain away, only for Harry to look away and turn his head elsewhere.

"Harry," Draco said quietly.

Harry looked at him; "Why?" he asked, a look of anguished confusion on his features.

Draco thought for an answer, and said what he could; "I... I was _worried_, Harry," he said quietly; "I thought you'd leave me. I knew when you hit the wall, the energy trail you left... it was, incriminating..."

Harry shook his head and laughed apathetically; "Incriminating," he repeated, his eyes staring forward, past oblivion; "I'm a _mess_, Drake..."

"Well, of course, I know that for a fact now, after what I've seen," Draco said, "You need rest."

He helped Harry to sit, but Harry gently held his arm out, pushing Draco back, and stood on his own. He as wobbling, but managed to move to the bed. Draco sat down beside him, easing Harry back to lie down, all the while whispering different things to him.

"Draco, honestly, you can stop now," Harry said when he could stand it no longer; "I was... overwhelmed and confused, okay? It won't happen again, I promise."

"Yes, promise all you want, Harry," Draco said, gently lying beside him, propped up on his elbow; "You're officially under suicide watch as of now."

Harry rolled his eyes as he rolled onto his side, away from the blonde; "Just leave me be," he whispered, turning his head into the pillow as he wrapped his arms around himself. He sighed.

"That's what you said, while I was in that place," Draco mused, "You're soul Harry, it's _so _worn and tainted with your anguish..."

Harry snorted, rolling over and looking at Draco; "Tell me something I don't know;" he said quietly, but anger was brimming in the tone; "I go there all the time. You might have seen nothing, but when I go there, it's not but _reflections_ of me;" he closed his eyes and was silent as he sighed, his tense body finally collapsing into the soft mattress.

"Let me help, Harry," Draco murmured, scooting closer.

Harry scooted back slightly, and shook his head; "No, Draco," he said, eyes slowly opening to stare at the blonde, almost mournfully; "You've done _more_ than enough," he continued quietly; "Thanks..."

"I won't just sit and watch you fall, Harry, I still want to help," Draco said.

Harry only closed his eyes and sighed. Draco watched him, how his chest heaved up and down with every breath, steadily slowing to a rhythmic pace. Draco slowly rose, mind overwhelmed in a mix of dread, regret, and confusion. He didn't want to leave Harry alone, but he had to. It was for the best, after all, that Harry rest after such an ordeal.

Draco's eyes fell on the red stain upon the floor, and he quickly backtracked to clean it. His eyes the fell, or rather, rose, to the dagger hilt jutting from the wall near the door pane. Draco tore it from the wall, and walked out of the room, the door he left ajar so as to where he could easily hear Harry's every move. He stalked into the kitchen, heaving a sigh as he sat down at the table. The dagger fell from his loose grasp as he threw it onto the table.

Draco scowled at the blade, still crimson along the cutting edge. He slumped, crossing his arms over on the table and resting his chin on them, gaze never faltering from the dagger.

It made perfectly unfocused sense. Draco understood Harry's sudden urge. The pint-up energy Draco had felt all day had risen to the surface, but the drastic measures taken to expel it were beyond his reasoning. He had considered the cuts on Harry's wrists before, the faint scars blending almost invisibly with the skin. Perhaps Harry had tried before? Draco tried not to think of that, the fact his boyfriend might have tried to commit suicide...

The door opening brought Draco to reality, and he looked up to see a haggard appearing Snape enter through the side door. His godfather closed the door and sighed. Draco saw scrolls tucked under his arm. Snape looked at Draco, and took notice of the dagger.

"_Why_ is there a _bloody blade_ on my kitchen table?" Snape asked incredulously.

Draco stood slowly, reaching for the dagger. His intention was to conceal it, but Snape said; "No, Draco, leave it and tell me what has been going on."

Sighing, Draco sat back down; "Harry..." he began; "He's... Severus, _so much_ has happened to him, there's just _so much_ that's been shoved onto _his_ shoulders! He blew up from it all, punched a whole in the bloody wall for crying out loud! And then, he attempted to... to _commit_..." he couldn't finish, and Snape looked—was, utterly shocked; "But he's fine," Draco added quickly; "I... I saved him, but he... he had closed into himself. I went in after him—"

"_Went in after him_?" Snape repeated, setting the scrolls along the counter before setting down.

"I followed his soul into this weird, dark chamber place," Draco simplified; "It was a complex spell, and I wasn't sure if it would work, at first. But it did, and I found Harry's soul;" he paused; "His soul looked dreadful, Sev, it really did," he said quietly; "I... I wanted to know why he was so angry and upset, and why the room was so dark. A soul's sanctum is supposed to be bright and comforting, not dark and morose. The soul said that he was burdened with guilt, that all the deaths were _his_ fault. He was blaming himself for everything, Sev, he was being a... a _martyr_..." Draco looked down and inclined his head at this, silencing. He didn't want to speak of it any longer.

Snape too, looked away, trying his best to control his rising anger and to regulate his breathing; "Is he... is Harry alright?" he asked.

"Yes, asleep, in fact," Draco replied, head beginning to swim in his growing thoughts.

Snape nodded, glancing at the clock; "It is only nine," he muttered; "_I can still catch the bastard_."

"Nine?" Draco asked, looking at the clock. Indeed, it was getting late in the evening. Draco looked out the window. The sun was nearly set. Had he really taken so long in the search for Harry's soul?

"Yes," Snape said, seething as he grabbed a cloak from the rack in the corner; "Draco, I'm about to do something that might jeopardize you and Harry's stay here. If anyone from the Order comes, I want you both to run down the road to the Inn within the valley. Just say you are staying there under my name, and they won't ask questions. Now, I'm off."

And Draco watched as his godfather left, wand tightly clutched in hand.

* * *

**.-=-=-=-=-=-.TBC.-=-=-=-=-=-.**

* * *

**A/N:** there you have it! Review!

Song lyrics by _Arch Enemy_, from their song so ironically entitled "dead inside". I haven't actually _heard_ the song, per se, by the lyrics were good for this chapter.

Another update might be late, as has decided to do some re-vamping to the sight. Can't say I blame them, in fact, I don't. so until I post again...!

Next chapter will be mostly about Snape, and a few side segments about Sabet, and possibly the Order. Hmmm, but my muse feeds on reviews.

Why make her suffer a horrible death due to starvation?

-!!!! Boom-Rhapsody


	15. To Do what Must be Done

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* * *

A/N:** First off, I want to thank everyone for reviewing.

The previous chapter was chapter 14, not 13. Typo on my part!!!

Still waiting on the picture challenge... details aren't that important, though. I'd be happy with a sketch. Anime style would be awesome, though!

I just realized something... about 115 people have me on their author's alert lists, so that means I should be expecting at least 50 reviews, not 25. Sorry, but I'm an addict to reviews and I find no shame in that. Feed the muse, she will continue producing!

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine_

[Author's notes]

**-=-=-=-=-=-=15=-=-=-=-=-=-**

Snape Aparated at once to the Ministry of Magic, and from there, he Aparated to a small mansion off in the fields of England. It was an elegant four story tutor, situated on a hilly knoll that was then surrounded by a farm. There was a pond in the front, a barn off to the left and open fields for miles. Snape grimaced. He did not like this residence, especially the occupants. But the Order Meetings were now held here, for Grimmauld place had become too cramped, or so that was the excuse. Now, he walked up the cobbled path to the front door, and without knocking, he entered.

Upon Snape's entry, the girl crossing the entrance hall had frozen. Ginny Weasley stared wide-eyed at her potions professor, but in confusion and fear. Snape gave her a disdaining glare, before finally speaking.

"Is your headmaster around,_ girl_?" he asked, not bothering to hide his anger.

"Y-Yes, Professor," Ginny replied quietly, gathering her nerves; "Why would you want him?"

"Business, and _that_ is none of _your _concern," Snape said; "Shall I find my own way, or are you going to show me there?"

Ginny muttered darkly under her breath as she nodded and began walking towards then up the stairs. Snape followed her at a distance, glaring eyes looking around. He did not like the place at all.

Ginny finally came to the third floor, and took to the left and then to the library. She turned and faced Snape, knocked on the large wooden doors, then shoved past him as she left. Snape glared at her retreating form, and then turned around when the door opened. Arthur Weasley stuck his head out.

"Ah, Severus," he said, "We were just about to call—"

"Save it, Arthur, where is Albus?" Snape interrupted irately as he pushed the door all the way open and pushed past Arthur. He stood to take in the library for a moment, before casting his onyx eyes around the room heatedly. Albus was sitting in a large, overstuffed armchair, by the fire, gazing into the flames as if hypnotized. He never looked up as Snape moved over to the old wizard, never once looking up.

"Albus," Snape said, attempting, though not futilely, to keep his anger hidden; "Tell me something about Harry. Anything..."

"He is the savior of our world, and a very intelligent young man," Dumbledore said musingly, eyes never once leaving the flames. He was deep in thought.

"I am a hairsbreadth away from going into Surrey and slaughtering that horrid bunch of Muggles you gave his care to," Snape seethed; "They have scarred the man for life, Albus! Did you not notice this? Well, did you?"

Dumbledore was silent. He looked up at Severus, who held his breath. The normally twinkling, mischievous eyes were dulled—dramatically. He now resembled the age he was. Dumbledore then looked back at the fire; his bony hands held together in his lap, elbows propped up on the armrests of the chair.

"Is that all you have to say of him, nothing?" Snape asked, malice dripping from his tone; "Well?"

Albus sighed; "What do you want me to tell you, Severus?" he asked tiresomely, looking at the potions master again wearily.

Snape's fists shook as he held them at his sides. /How can the old fool play the mask so damn well?/ he thought. /He's more of a Death Eater than I am! / Snape did not let his emotion show, much. But he eyes did begin to blaze with a furious light, and it was not from the fire.

"What I asked last," Snape finally managed to say through gritted teeth and lips that hardly moved as he did so.

Again, the old wizard sighed, gaze returning to the fire; "Yes," he said finally.

Snape turned around as he heard a gasp, and it had come from Arthur. Snape glared; "Oh, don't act so unknowing, Arthur," he sneered.

"I... what... Albus?" Arthur stuttered; "What is going on? What happened?"

Dumbledore sighed; "I knew what the boy was—"

"Stop referring to him as _boy_!" Snape roared, exploding; "He is no longer a child, and apparently he's grown up so fast that his maturity surpasses your own! You _pompous_ windbag, I know you'll try to fool me into believing some far fetched tale of how you eventually saved the day! Tell me _the truth_ or I shall find my answers elsewhere! And the only other place I could find answers is in _Surrey_!"

"Severus, honestly!" Arthur shouted, rushing over and pulling the potions master back as Snape began reaching for his wand.

Dumbledore watched apathetically as this played out, ending with Snape throwing Arthur to the side. The ex-Death Eater let his hand fall away from the hidden compartment within his robe sleeve, leaving his wand secure and away from his twitching hand. How his hand ached to grasp the magical wooden instrument, and bring forth the curses so candidly titled "unforgivable".

"Severus, please," Dumbledore said, sighing; "Now is not time to fight amongst ourselves..."

"Answer me then, before some Muggles find themselves deader than hell!" Snape roared.

"Fine, Severus, you wish to know? I will tell you," Dumbledore said, frustrated annoyance lining his tone; "It has not gone without me knowing how Harry has been treated. But I too, was a fool to believe him when he wrote saying that he was fine. I cannot see the soul, so I had no knowing of his inner teenage angst."

"Teenage angst? Teenage angst?!" Severus roared; "Harry has suffered more than a thousand score of adults, Albus, and his angst is clearly more than that and justified in that sense!"

"Severus, I will not tolerate your insolence any longer!" Dumbledore shouted.

Snape grew silent at the statement, staring at the man who had unknowingly admitted his thoughts, his obsession, of power. Dumbledore was now rising from the chair, and soon, he stood eye-to-eye with the potions master. Snape stared defiantly back.

"I suggest you go now to tend to your duties and obligations," Dumbledore said, though there seemed to be a hiss behind the words. His eyes were sparkling with anger, pupils narrowing.

Snape nodded, seeing the old man's hand grasping his wand. Wordlessly, he backed away, but not before saying; "You know, Albus, for a moment you had me fooled."

And thus saying, he Aparated, and was gone, leaving a very astonished Arthur still on the floor in shocked silence and a very angered and frustrated Wizengamot Leader.

* * *

The large, open parlor was occupied by several bodies, magical folk who seemed normal, dressed normal, and carried wands, even. But none had use for sticks. Sabet sat in a chair at a table by the Large Windows, overlooking the cliffs and the waters below. Magical illusions, but he considered them beautiful and a gateway to his never-failing imagination. Sabet looked around the gathering of Vampires. Eight, all of whom he had personally requested. Now, they talked casually with one another, idly asking of each other's lives. But they were all weary of their leader, unknowing of their obligation to come. None could penetrate the fortress of a mind, and so were left in excepted bewilderment.

Sabet decided it was time to break the lull and get to the business he had been postponing for too long; "Please, may everyone have a seat?"

The question was more statement, yet everyone paid heed to it none the less and they all took seats. Sabet looked around them all. Manuel Hunt, from London, a once famous Auror for the Ministry, now a vampire driven into hiding after his father had been found as one of them and killed. Within the group there was another Auror still gone undetected, Adam Spalther, and another, Damien Riggs, along with Jabez Wilscott, a Scotsman, Amos Branston, from the native France, and Faust Ulrich, who hailed from France as well. And, last but not least, was Morgan Le Faye, the only known and living Female Vampire.

Sixteen eyes watched Sabet, eight forms still and mouths frozen silent. Sabet closed his eyes, finalizing his thoughts, then slowly his naturally hooded eyes.

"As you all know, our Winter Equinox is to come at an earlier time this year," he began, "And, as you all read the wizarding papers, there is ...a great risk amongst their race. We all know the Equinox brings both power and weakness to anything and everything with magical heritage, though Wizards are lucky that the effects on them are so mild they do not detect them. What I am coming to is that Harry Potter, our own, has yet to experience the side effects of the Equinox. As it affects us all differently, I fear that Mr. Malfoy will not be able to handle him on his own."

"Are you proposing that we fetch him at the given time and bring him here?" Morgan asked, her jade eyes watching Sabet, though they were constantly glancing at the window.

Sabet nodded; "That can be arranged," Manuel mused, idly staring at the small hole in his robe sleeve; "An acquaintance of mine, Kinglsey Shacklebolt, is within the Order and sees Harry regularly. He could tell me what is going on when the school starts, and then we can arrange something."

"Ya still in contact with Wizards?!" Jabez exclaimed; "Afta they've bin tryin' ta kill ye? Are ya daft, man?"

"Kinglsey is very trustworthy, and he is not completely agreeing to the Order's endeavors," Manuel stated calmly, "We went to school together, anyway, my standing and his obligation do not come into the way of friendship."

"_Je parie d'autres choses font_," Amos muttered to Faust. Faust chuckled dryly, covering his mouth with a hand and shaking his head in mirth.

"What did you say?" Manuel asked warningly.

"Nothing, dearest Manuel," Amos said earnestly, in his clearest English; "Merely a small... _l'échange de mots_," he finished in French, covering his mouth again to suppress a chuckle. Again, Faust did the same.

Manuel silently fumed, and Adam rolled his eyes; "They say nothing of importance, Manuel," he said; "Ignore them."

Sabet silently chuckled at the gathering. Being the youngest of those present, Amos and Faust tended to cause more tension. Though they were intelligent and cunning, both could be idiots at times. Still, it brought comic relief, and Sabet did not interfere.

* * *

Draco remained in the kitchen, thinking still, for thirty more minutes. Finally, when he felt a headache rising at the back of his skull, he shook his head, and grabbed the blade as he left. Draco turned the weapon over in his hands, before finally closing it. He went up the steps quiet as air, and, placing the knife on a small table on the wall, he proceeded in walking into Harry's room.

The dark-haired vampire was still lying on the bed, curled up and facing the window. Vibrant green eyes met the sky outside, hued over in a haze of thought. Draco quietly walked over, sitting on the bed. He watched Harry, before lying down before him.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked quietly, hand reaching out to grasp Harry's.

Harry's eyes fell on the blonde, and he smiled slightly; "Yeah," he said just as softly; "...You like playing nursemaid, don't you?"

Draco smirked; "It passes the time," he replied; "But no, not really."

"It's funny how you can be so patient with me, and not everything else," Harry mused.

"Well, you're just that special exception," Draco whispered, leaning in.

Harry closed the gap, lips coming to meet Draco's. It was short, but the contact itself seemed to last forever. Harry pulled away, and Draco stared at him. The blonde sighed before resting his head against Harry's chest. Harry, who had just realized how close they had become, wrapped and arm around Draco. Looking past the tuft of blonde hair, he stared, troubled, out the window, his mixed emotions warring within his already diluted mind.

* * *

"Now, one final topic," Sabet said; "The wizard's affairs are becoming very... dangerous to their kind..."

"Tell me about it," Damien said; "The Minister's a wreck, what with dealing with Voldemort and his huge family, plus the Order."

Unlike the wizards, the vampires didn't need to fear Voldemort. Once the Death Eaters had approached Sabet and his Council, and after a horrible battle, and the defeat of the Death Eaters, Voldemort knew Sabet wanted nothing to do with them. They were in the clear, the vampires were.

"We can't meddle," Morgan said, "It's too dangerous for us."

"Yeah, buh wha' if our own've been thrown inta the fray?" Jabez asked.

"'Arry Potter, you mean," Amos said; "Draco could easily back out."

"No he could not," Sabet said; "The Death Eaters are unknowing to his lineage. The magic in his veins gives them the reason to burden him with unwanted commitment to their own."

"And Harry?" Morgan asked.

"Well, he's the poor person that damned race has shoved into the light of battle, of course," Manuel mumbled musingly, looking out the window.

"Which is why he is so troubled," Morgan whispered; "We should kill every damn one of them in the Order for what they've done to him."

"Revenge is not a worthy accomplice, more so a deadly adversary," Sabet said wisely; "What has happened has happened, and so it has passed. We can only safeguard the future."

Everyone nodded solemnly, agreeing silently with the statement.

"So... _if_ it comes to such,_ shall_ we interfere?" Faust asked.

"Yes, of course we will," Manuel said immediately; "As the Heads of the Council, it is our duty, our _obligation_. We cannot let Harry, nor Draco, face this alone."

"The only problem is," Morgan said; "_Will_ they accept our help?"

"Draco knows we will aid him," Sabet said; "It is our creed: 'Leave not a soul to fend alone, to be united is to stand the strongest.' Harry will accept it, in time, when he gets to the point where his trades stubbornness for rational reflection."

Again, the others solemnly nodded.

* * *

"What are we to do, Albus? Severus is near breaking away! If we lose him—!"

"We won't lose him, Arthur, trust in that. He cannot go anywhere."

Arthur looked at Dumbledore blankly. They had yet to leave the library, had not spoken for some time after Snape's defiant departure. Unable to keep his queries secret, Arthur had spoken first. But now, his "leader's" statement drew blank pages to the tainted canvas of his polluted mind.

"Sir?" he asked again.

Dumbledore sighed; "Arthur, where could he go?" he asked; "He cannot betray the order, he will either be disowned by our world or harmed. And if he were to return to the Dark Lord..."

"We would throw him in Azkaban," Arthur whispered; "I knew I should have arrested him while we were at his home! I knew I should have!"

"No, that would have done no good;" Dumbledore said; "Harry and Draco would have become reckless and possibly would have killed themselves trying to right what they thought was wrong..."

"Albus," Arthur said; "I am starting to become... worried, when it comes to Harry. I mean, you can feel his aura, there's an unnatural glow to his eyes. He's changed, there's something that's happened that we don't know about..."

"There is nothing that I am unaware of," Dumbledore said; "You forget, Arthur, that I have eyes _everywhere_. Nothing goes without me knowing of it."

"Of course, Albus, I know, I know, it's just..."

"No, Arthur, the boy is just rebelling. He will come to his senses. He better..."

* * *

Remus and Kingsley listened from outside of the library, both holding gasps of outrage. Remus had heard the initial argument between Snape and Dumbledore, and had alerted Kingsley as well. Now, both decided to quietly make their way from the doors, heading instead for the lower floors. They did not speak, only walked together in silence. They soon exited the large mansion, intent on leaving. But Kingsley stopped, head arched back and eyes scanning the sky. Remus stopped, and did as well.

Ron and Ginny we flying on brooms, circling the estate. But they were not racing.

"Ignore them," Remus whispered almost inaudibly.

Kingsley nodded; "We should find Severus," he said as they continued.

"Yes," Remus said; "I have a feeling that he may do something that could endanger his very being."

* * *

Vernon Dursley muttered under his breath as he walked into his home. It was late, the sun had set and the house was quiet. His wife and son were slumbering in their beds. Slinging his jacket onto the coat rack, Vernon went down the hallway, but when passing the living room he caught a shadow. The shadow sat in a chair in the corner of the room. Vernon could see ghostly white hands holding to a wand, elbows contently resting on the armrests. The face, he could not make out, for it was hidden by a hood.

"Who are you?" he asked angrily, all the while edging towards the hallway telephone.

The figure rose, and ghosted over towards him. Vernon squeaked, voice lost to him as his throat caught and his mouth dried clean of saliva. The figure managed a wheezy chuckle, before holding the wand out.

"The last thing you'll ever see,_ Muggle_..."

And, in a dawning moment of superior intelligence, Vernon knew that his wife and son were dead or gone. Fearfully he backed away, but the figure's free hand shot out like lightening, grasping his collar and shoving him to the wall.

"Where is the boy?" the figure hissed, shrouded head dangerously close to Vernon's.

"Wh-wh-who?" Vernon managed to utter, voice drenched in fear.

"Where is Harry Potter?!" the figure yelled, the tone of his own voice laced with the intent of death. The anger was clear, and the motive was strong in it.

"H-he ran away!" Vernon replied, cringing as the hand shot from collar to neck. Slowly, breath was lacking when the hand tightened around the stout flesh.

"P-please, I d-don't kn-now where h-h-he is!" Vernon begged, begged like the cornered coward that he was.

"That, Muggle, is the wrong answer," the hooded figure whispered, face drawing pack as the hand released its hold.

Vernon drew in a raspy breath, only to feel the wand's tip just above his heart. His eyes dropped to the wand, then steadily, slowly, unwillingly rose, only to meet the darkness of the shadowed face.

The only words next uttered hung in the air before the eminent blast of green...

"_Avada Kadavra_..."

The green engulfed the man, coursing through him, before the light exploded. The hooded figure stepped back, allowing the lifeless body to fall to the floor. Now the man was dead, and since the wife and son were out they would not matter. This served enough as a warning.

Laughing quietly, the hood fell back as a ghostly hand pulled it away. Tom Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort, laughed quietly, maliciously, callously, as he kicked the obese, fast-deteroriating body. By the time the spell took affect, nothing would be left.

And thus, satisfied with his work, Voldemort Disapparated, leaving the scene, the house, and even Surrey, far, far behind as he fled to the Malfoy Manor.

**A/N:** ooh twist! Voldemort is back, Remus and Kingsley go Snape-hunting, Dumbledore's the evil bastard, Vernon is dead, and oh, Arthur's been manipulated into servitude! Plus, Harry and Draco share quiet time. Hmm, what shall I think of next?

I expect about 50 reviews, or you'll never find out.

I know, I'm mean, but I did the math and have found that around 50 reviews are only fair.


	16. Threats and Disturbances

**A/N:** First off, I want to thank everyone for reviewing.

Secondly, after reading an extremely horrifyingly similarly planned story, I feel it necessary to update early. But, I am still going to expect about **40** reviews for this.

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine_

Author's notes

**------16------**

Kingsley and Remus quickly left the manor, meeting again just outside of Surrey.

"Why are we here?" Kingsley asked, looking around. His strong hand was tightly holding his wand.

"I have a feeling, Kingsley," Remus whispered as they began walking into the neighborhood; "Something's amiss here..."

"Something's always amiss, now," Kingsley said; "Remus, do you know about vampires?"

Remus stopped. "No," he said slowly, looking at Kingsley; "Why would I?"

"Well, and I hope you take no offense to this, but you are a werewolf," Kingsley said; "I was only wondering if maybe you might know a few."

"No, Kingsley, I do not," Remus lied, masking his knowledge. He couldn't completely place Kingsley's reason, therefore trust could not be handled.

"It's just," Kingsley said as they continued walking; "You remember the young man from England who went to Hogwarts with me until the middle of sixth year?"

"Manuel, I think his name was," Remus mused; "Why?"

Kingsley only sighed and shook his head, and Remus nodded; "He's a vampire," he said quietly; "And... I remember how he changed. Harry seems to have gone through the changes. It's baffling, how much he's grown, even you must admit that."

Remus nodded; "There is much that you know, and are still unaware of."

"I know one thing, though, like the back of my hand," Kingsley said; "Dumbledore is up to something, and it's making me rethink who I should trust."

"Things will be changing," Remus said, but as they turned the corner he stopped and held his breath, pulling Kingsley back with him.

"What—" Kingsley began, but Remus elbowed his gut and forced the other man into silence.

Something was odd about the street. The identical houses were still, too still even for the hour of the night when sleep was expected. The Remus and Kingsley both realized it.

The street was captivated by a spell of suspended animation.

"Who cast it?" Remus whispered, knuckles pale as he gripped his wand.

"See the ministry in the windows," Kingsley replied almost inaudibly, teeth gritted and mouth barely parted.

Remus looked and, low and behold, a figure was caught darting past the living room window. The door opened, and a man stood on the small porch.

Arthur Weasley.

The Weasley sire looked around before going back into the house. As he opened the door, wails and cries of mourning could be heard, then the door was shut and silence reigned again. Remus and Kingsley backed away, beginning to recognize the signature magical haze of boundary charms. They turned and ran down the road, reaching their point of entry.

"What the hell happened?" Kingsley asked anxiously, looking back.

"It appears that Harry's uncle has been murdered," Remus said, "Kingsley, you don't think..."

"No, even Severus has a head on his shoulders," Kingsley said.

Wordlessly, Remus nodded; "We need to go to his home, to make sure Harry and Draco are fine, in the least."

* * *

Snape Aparated to his home, quietly entering through the side door as was his habit. He saw Oswarae perched on the windowsill within, asleep. Snape inwardly sighed. The bird slept when Harry did, and that meant that Draco would be dosing somewhere as well. So, the thought cleared, Snape began an inspection of his home.

The charms and wards placed upon the house was much like those on Grimmauld Place, be it that Snape's home could not be located. The house was also protected from Aparating and disaparating; one would have to do so before getting near the property. It was a positive to the two-story home.

Quietly, the potions master ascended the stairs, coming to the landing. He spied the dagger on the table, and walked over to collect it. As he did, he saw a blonde head poke out from a doorway and face him. Snape looked fully to see Draco staring at him sleepily, blinking like an owl caught unawares. The blonde looked at the clock, and then cursed. It was apparently too late for the blonde's predilection, and Snape smirked fondly at this.

Chiding his godson silently, Snape patted Draco's shoulder while passing the doorway, and continued to his room. As he did he heard the door behind close slowly, and, sated that both of his wards were safe in bed, even if that meant together, Snape entered his own bedroom.

But he did not so much as get his shoes off when there was a loud knocking on the front door, as if it was being given a severe thrashing. Grumbling, Snape raced to it, not wanting to disturb the other inhabitants, and when he opened the door a tired and distraught looking Remus, followed by an equally anxious appearing Kingsley, fell in.

Literally.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Snape asked as he helped both men up; "Have you any idea what time—?"

"Severus, oh thank the gods you're here!" Remus said; "did you go to Surrey? Well, did you?!"

"Of course not!" Snape retorted in a hushed whisper; "And talk quieter!" he added, thumbing towards the ceiling.

"_To the kitchen_!" Kingsley hissed anxiously, shoving the two with him as he went to said room.

They all gathered around the kitchen, Kingsley moving to make tea with shaking hands. Snape allowed it, listening as Remus told him of Privet Drive. Soon, all were drinking tea with shaking, if not nervous, hands.

"It had to be _him_," Snape muttered, his hand feeling the mark on his arm through his clothing; "There is no other explanation."

"They may pin it to you, though!" Kingsley said; "Severus, Arthur's been saying that you show signs of betraying the Order. I and Remus don't believe it, but the others might."

"And All they would need is Dumbledore's approval to pass the judgment," Remus said sullenly.

"So it's come full circle," Snape muttered.

"Come again?" Kingsley asked, looking up from his cup.

"Don't you see," Remus said quietly, eyes darting about with sudden realization; "The Order is, in a sense, _the Death Eaters_ for the Light. Both Dumbledore and You-Know-Who wish for the same thing."

"Power," Kingsley gasped, looking at the table as he replayed past events and happenings. It all fell into place.

"And..." Snape said; "Dumbledore manipulated them all."

"Minerva is a little weary," Remus said.

"Tonks is as well," Kingsley said; "But the gel's so young and naïve..."

"We have to find him out," Snape said; "Bring it all to the surface..."

"But the waters are so murky already..." Remus murmured.

"And the sharks, they circle in wait..." Kingsley finished solemnly.

They all nodded, sipping the steaming liquid.

From the corner of his eye, Snape saw the same blonde head slowly poke around the entryway. Remus couldn't suppress his smirk, and Kingsley looked away. A disheveled Malfoy was always a sight, and Draco was no exception. His blonde hair splayed off to the side, ghosting over the left side of his face, clothing disheveled as well. He flipped the hair out of the way, or tried to, hooded eyes looking from Remus, to Kingsley, to Snape, then again at Remus.

"Draco," Snape said; "P—"

But Draco held up his hand, index finger held up from the rest of the lazy fingers, and hazily, almost drunkenly said; "We told you so," then he disappeared, plodding footsteps soon being heard heading down the hall and up the steps.

The three men laughed at the sight, quietly though as to not have the blonde back down to provoke their amusement further. A disheveled Malfoy was always a sight.

* * *

Harry raised his head as Draco trudged in. He had been listening to the conversation downstairs to his best abilities, but it had only come to his ears as muffled words.

"Well?" Harry asked as he scooted over so Draco could climb back onto the bed.

"We've got Kingsley," Draco replied before burying his face in the pillow.

"You make it sound as if we're the ones doing the manipulating, when we're only watching the eminent being played out in our favor," Harry remarked, turning Draco slightly so he could see the beautiful face of his boyfriend.

Draco smiled, closing his eyes; "Oh, but with what you're thinking up," he said, opening his eyes and grinning mischievously.

"What?" Harry asked, smirk broadening; "When did you get into my mind?"

"While you slept," Draco said, "Well, I figured since you do it to me on every given notion, I thought revenge was in order. And I must say, a vat of oil on Granger's hair alone?" the blonde laughed; "You _are_ Slytherin!"

Harry chuckled; "Well, they'll get what they deserve," he mused; "Tell me, Draco, if we had become friends all those years ago what do you..."

"If it's one thing I've learned, Harry, it's that rewriting the past with your thoughts only gets you nowhere," Draco said, pressing a finger to Harry's lips to still them. Removing his finger, Draco placed a gentle kiss there instead; "But, certain things could take you to cloud nine," he whispered.

"Lust Bucket," Harry said quietly, "I told you before..."

Draco sighed; "I know, and since we've been thrown into this I've literally _become celibate_. I haven't so much as fondled myself for fear of... _something_..." he added, averting his gaze with a confused expression.

Harry smiled and kissed Draco's cheek. Draco looked at him, smiling slightly; "But you're probably glad by that."

Harry only smiled more, leaning back and sitting up; "I want to go somewhere before School starts," he said.

"Well, where is there to go?" Draco asked; sitting up as well.

Harry shrugged; "Anywhere?" he suggested.

"Please, be more specific," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

Harry was about to reply, when they both heard the faint moving sounds from below.

/Somebody's coming up the stairs/ Draco thought to Harry, throwing his legs over the bed and standing.

Harry nodded, reaching over and pulling on a tank. Draco put on a pair of pajama bottoms, a random article of clothing from the floor, just in time for the door to open.

They couldn't have Snape being paranoid just yet, after all.

Remus' head slowly came into view with the opening of the door; "Harry," he said, walking in; "There is something... that's happened... you might not care, but..." the werewolf paused.

"Your uncle... he has been murdered."

Harry just sat there, watching Remus. The werewolf's mannerisms were justified for the news; gritting teeth, nervous tensing of muscles under the gaze, the smell of anger. Why would he be angry? Harry wondered, and Draco thought this as well. Vernon was dead, that was no cause of worry, more so celebration, but something must be running deeper than what the water showed on the surface analogy.

"By who?" Harry asked finally, solemnly enough.

Draco already knew. It was obvious who had committed the act. And before Remus chanced to answer, he looked down and whispered; "Voldemort;" in an attempt to distract himself, Draco bent down and put on a shirt, another article from the floor. It was Harry's, a dark muscle Tank, but Draco didn't care. Not at the moment, anyway.

Remus stiffened slightly, but made no move to shiver outwardly or gasp as most would have. Instead, he merely nodded, and Harry sighed and inclined his head as he scratched behind his ear in thought.

"So what should I even consider doing about it?" Harry finally asked, looking up tiredly at Remus, "I mean... there's not much that I could do, is there?"

"Harry, I can sense this coming," Remus said; "It will only be a matter of time before Arthur or Albus come to escort you elsewhere."

"Do you think I wish to run, Remus?" Harry asked incredulously; "I won't run. I'm not moving anywhere unless I find that it would be best. If Voldemort wants to hunt me down, then by hell let him come. The sooner he does the quicker I could end things," Harry finished, inclining his head again; "I'm just tired," he said, falling back, sprawled, against the softness of the covers and mattress.

Silently, Draco looked at Remus, rising. Harry lifted his head to watch Draco head for the door, and thought /Where are you going?/

Draco stopped and looked at him, smirking. /Only downstairs to fend off Dumblefuck so you can rest/ he said.

/Sure that's sensible?/ Harry thought. /Even if I may be able to get away with it, you might get hurt.../

"Worried, are we?" Remus asked, chuckling, and both vampires looked at him in mild surprise and confusion. Again, Remus chuckled; "I can sense the way the body reacts to emotions. Anyway, Harry, rest, you look like death. Draco, suppose you're coming down for a reason;" he paused, a knowing air about him.

Harry nodded, resting his head down on the bed again. Draco turned and walked out, Remus following and closing the door. The two walked down the steps in silence, reaching the kitchen where Snape and Kingsley were.

"Draco, tea?" Snape asked, rising.

Draco shook his head, taking instead the stool and dragging it over to the table. He sat on it, legs drawn up. Sighing, he let his wings show and fall, seeming to slump. The longest feathers graced the floor like whispers.

Snape froze, as did Remus. Draco's eyes snapped open, and he uttered a single word as he looked at Kingsley:

"_Shit_."

* * *

It was late, but _the Three Broomsticks_, the pub in Hogsmead, was still very active with life. Several wizarding folk still occupied the barstools, several parties chattered animatedly around tables. The pub was full of life and happy ramblings, each soul hazy from butterbeer.

But two people kept to themselves, instead watching the small bodies of people intently, though they only gave glances over in the given direction. Butterbeers untouched, they instead took to communicating by there own means.

Morgan was watching Amos from the corner of her eye, her gaze supposedly on her butterbeer. The sweet nectar of wizards brought her no warmth or false security, nor did it appeal to her as it once had. Amos himself was neglecting his beverage, eyes looking out the window. To anyone, it would appear to be a bad date, but they knew better...

Sabet had sent them out as soon as word came to them from a fellow vampire that Vernon Dursley had been eradicated, and he had instructed them both to travel as a pair to Hogsmead, should any activity occur. Now that Harry had joined them, they too were now involved in the Battle of the Fates.

_What do you think?_ Morgan thought to Amos.

Amos' eyes shifted to meet her own, and he replied. _We need to stay here for a while longer before we wander around._

_Shall I search a few wizards, see if they know anything?_

Amos sighed and mentally shook his head as he looked away, back out the window.

_Nay, let us just enjoy the calm before the storm._

Morgan was silent, and then she sighed impatiently and turned in her seat. _I'm feeling an urge, Amos_. She projected. _Something is not right_...

And just as she finished saying that, the door to the pub burst open with a massive gust of air that blew out the lanterns and candles and extinguished the flames in the fireplace, scattered ash out onto the hearth, and caused several screams to rip through the air. Morgan and Amos were on their feet in an instant, fangs protruding and nails extending to form miniature claws.

_Wait._ Amos projected to his companion, and Morgan did, though unwillingly.

* * *

Kingsley only held a placid smirk on his features as he sipped on his tea; "Knew Manni was talking about someone I knew," he mused, setting his mug down; "So, Draco, I suppose Harry's a vampire as well?"

Dumbly, Draco looked at Snape, pointing at Kingsley. When Snape shrugged, Draco's head snapped in the direction of Remus. Remus nodded, and Draco slowly looked at the still smirking Kingsley.

"Who do you know?" Draco asked him; "Is it Faust? Or Amos? I bet it's Amos, he gets around like a single drink at a party..." he muttered, looking away.

Kingsley laughed, "No, no, I'm a friend of Manuel Hunt's," he replied; "Black isn't the only person I'm supposedly 'tracking' for the Ministry."

Draco smiled coyly; "You slimy bastard!" he exclaimed.

"Wasn't in Ravenclaw just for book smarts," Kingsley comments, sipping on his tea; "And no, Amos is all talk. He's quite insecure with that type of thing."

"Only rumors of the grape vine," Draco said; "So, are you with us, or are you just a little toy of Dumbledore's? If I want to, I'll read your mind inside out."

"No need," Kingsley said; "My loyalty's lie with the _justified alliance_."

"Ooh, clever," Snape said; "But no, if we were to form an alliance, it would have no name."

"Ah, so there would be no sure knowing unless one was a member of said organization?" Remus asked intriguingly.

Snape rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples; "Quite," Draco replied, turning and nodding to the werewolf; "What will we do if the Ministry comes for Harry?"

"What could we do?" Kingsley asked; "Arthur's the sodding minister," at this, Snape and Remus gave him horrified looks; "What?" Kingsley asked innocently; "It's been a night, okay? My language is not exactly under wraps."

"I would expect that from Draco," Snap muttered as he sat,

Remus nodded as he did the same.

"We'll fight, if we must," Draco said; "Or let Harry sort it out."

"No, he needs his rest," Severus said.

"He's been resting for almost three months," Draco said; "And besides, this is what he wants. He wants to be asked how he wants things to be. His whole life people have made decisions for him. It's only just' that he be given the opportunity. Though I can't say he'll have his say, anyway," he added smugly, crossing both arms.

* * *

Harry tired ignoring the conversation below, desperate to sleep. His head was pounding, all he wanted was to rest and seep a little longer. But nay, it would not come, so he rose to sit up with a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Harry's eyes caught the movement of Oswarae in the corner, the black bird having been there, silently, all night, both sleeping and keeping a close watch on things. Now, the bird flew over to the bed, perching on Harry's propped-up knee. Quietly, the bird let out a soft caw. Harry stroked the red-tinged midnight feathers.

/what will I do, Oswarae/ Harry miserly projected to the bird, sighing.

Oswarae leaned into the gentle pets, eyes closing over as he replied /Be indifferent/

/That's all you have to say/

/For you, that is what works/ Oswarae stated, lifting his head /Master must plan the arrival to Hogwarts/

/I've gotten it all mapped out/ Harry said /How did you know the name of my school, anyway?/

The raven seemed to smirk as the replied came. /Oswarae knows many things about wizard world. I have lived for a very long time/

/Oh?/ Harry asked /How old are you, then?/

/For me to know and you to never learn of/ Oswarae replied with a click of his beak /Draco is restless for some reason/ he commented after a silence.

/Probably just sexually frustrated because I refuse to lay with him/ Harry said as he leaned back. Having spoken with Oswarae for so long, he had come to understand the basic terminology that was often used amongst the species.

/It is not that hat worries me/ Oswarae mused, clicking his beak in thought. /He seems... distant?/ the raven looked at Harry, as if the answer might be inconclusive.

Harry shook his head. /That's not the case/ he replied. /Like you said, school's about to start. Plus, his father was released from prison/

Oswarae blinked. /Do the wizards know of this?/ he asked.

Harry shook his head. /No/ he replied. /Voldemort just arrived at Azkaban/

Oswarae knew Harry's connection to Voldemort had neither lessened, nor worsened, but that now, Harry was and had been checking in mentally on the Dark Lord. Oswarae knew that he was probably the only one besides Harry who knew of this, for Harry had kept this even from Draco.

Then there was a loud, resounding knock at the door, causing both vampire and raven to stop still in silence.

* * *

Draco's wings instantly went to his back and disappeared, the blonde jumping from the stool to land on the ground in a tense standing. Severus, Remus, and Kingsley had also risen from their seas.

"Dumbledore," Draco whispered.

"And Arthur," Remus muttered; "Draco, if anything happens..."

"You and Harry are to go where I told you to," Snape said brashly, walking out of the kitchen. Draco hurried to follow, but Kingsley held him back.

"No, Draco," he said, gently pushing the young vampire towards the stairs; "You and Harry need to get ready, just in case."

"But, Shacklebolt—!" Draco began, but Kingsley physically picked Draco up, and set him down on the third stair.

"I mean it, Draco!" Kingsley said, his tone demanding obedience. Wordlessly, and scowling, Draco nodded, before walking quickly up the steps.

Snape and Remus, Meanwhile, were at the door. Giving each other glances, Snape nodded and opened the door.

"Arthur, Albus, what a surprise!" Remus said enthusiastically; "What brings you—"

"Not now, Remus," Arthur said; "We're here to speak to Severus."

"Well, by all means, come in," Snape said through gritted teeth and unmoving lips. He and Remus stepped aside, and the two other wizards stepped in. the door was closed, and the four stood in the entrance way in silence.

Remus caught Kingsley's movements into the living room out of the corner of his eye, and then looked at Dumbledore and Arthur.

"What brings you here anyway, Remus?" Arthur suddenly asked.

"I was checking on my godson, Arthur," Remus replied simply; "I'm not to be irresponsible."

Dumbledore nodded, then, he sighed a tired, weary sigh; "I'm sure," he said, "Severus, there was an attack."

"Of which I'm aware of," Severus said; "Vernon Dursley is being taken to St. Mungo's, am I correct?"

"He's dead, Severus," Arthur said, a hint of a glar to his eyes; "And we have reason to believe that you commited the murder."

"Why would I waste precious energy on someone like _him_?" Snape asked; "It would be a waste of time, and Harry might not forgive me."

"Or worship the ground you walk on," Remus muttered incoherently, covering it with a cough.

Arthur glanced at him heatedly, before looking at Snape again; "After you barged into my home," he said; "You're the most likely suspect."

* * *

Draco grumbled as he went up the steps and walked quietly into Harry's room. He saw Harry sitting in the bed, the damned bird on his knee. They had obviously been conversing, but Draco paid it no mind.

"Well?" Harry asked, stretching and causing Oswarae to fly and perch on the bed post.

"Sev and Remus have it under control," Draco said as he plopped down; "Kingsley shoved me up the stairs, though," he grumbled, crossing his arms and pouting.

Harry smiled and laughed quietly as he pulled Draco to him gently, resting the blonde against his chest as he leaned against the headboard. Both laughed as Oswarae flew from the room.

"What's got you so clingy?" Draco asked, looking up at Harry.

"I have an idea," Harry said, "One that I think you'll love."

"Oh?" Draco asked, turning in the embrace and sitting up slightly.

"A night on me, in Muggle London," Harry said.

Draco's eyes grew wide in surprise.

"Yes," Harry said; "As a celebration before we have to go to school. We'll go to clubs, we'll drink, we'll dance, and we'll forget about all of this for hours."

"Oh, you've got me giddy like some girl," Draco whispered, leaning in to kiss Harry.

Harry returned it whole-heartedly.

* * *

"Gentlemen, have we forgotten our greatest adversary to date?" Snape asked, crossing his arms, as if in thought; "Surely _He_ would be your culprit." He was having fun digging himself into such a hole. This would be driving Arthur and Dumbledore crazy.

"Severus, as much as I consider you a friend," Dumbledore said; "All signs are leading to you."

"Oh course, but at the same time, they are going in completely opposite directions," Remus piped up, looking around at the other three; "For you see, Severus has been here since I arrived at about nine, and the accident happened at what, ten thirty?"

There was silence to greet Remus' statement, broken only by Dumbledore's voice; "I agree, Remus," he said finally; "Arthur, this shall not reach the press. Remus, I want you to go to Hogwarts and Alert Minerva of the happenings. I am going to the Ministry to Alert the Order Members there. Severus..." there was a pause; "Wake Harry, I want to speak with him."

The three nodded, and Arthur and Dumbledore left. Remus sighed frustrated, before leaning his head back and shouting; "Alright, Kingsley, they're gone."

Kingsley came from the living room, "Better get to my flat," he said, "Don't want them coming over to find an empty place."

"Yes, you should," Remus said; "See you, and be careful."

Kingsley nodded, before he left through the door.

* * *

Morgan was tense and Amos was still as a statue as the figures entered. One wore burgundy robes of the Ministry fashion, the other, robes fit for a bounty hunter. Long, slick black hair pulled into a tress at the base of the neck, tan skin seeming to glow along with bright, almost opaque, blue eyes. The strong set jaw and the even placed features sent both Morgan and Amos into sustained and subdued terror.

Ellis Vander.

The wizard accompanying the wizincoma was none other than Gerald Horst, a secondary level Auror with apparently close ties to his companion. The two walked up to the bar, the pub's occupants settling back down in their seats. Morgan and Amos sat down as well, unsure of whether to leave or stay. They couldn't risk communicating telepathically; Vander would notice it.

"Barkeep, two Butterbeers, please," Horst said to a waitress passing by behind the bar.

"O' course, sirs," she said, giving them a smile.

Her eyes stayed on Vander for a while, before she finally poured the Butterbeers and handed them to them. Horst paid the money, then the two went to the only vacant table left in the pub. It was only about five and a half feet from Amos and Morgan's.

"So, Horst, how have you been?" Vander asked nonchalantly as he sipped on the beer.

"Very well, Vander, very well indeed," horst replied, doing the same; "And you?"

"Just returned from Switzerland," Vander said, and Amos stiffened. Morgan dug her nails into the wooden table, digging into the timber; "I swear, I will find those vampires."

"Must be hard, hunting for your own kind," Horst mused.

"I did not ask for my inheritance, and I'm bound to stop it from every happening to anyone else," Vander seethed; "No one should have to drink blood and kill innocent people just so that they could live..."

"Benefits, though..."

"This power is not meant for humans, or even mortals," Vander muttered; "It's too threatening."

"So, how many vampires do you think there are, then?"

"Too many, maybe five hundred, maybe more."

"Well, start swinging your ax, Vander; you've got a lot of work."

"I will live for centuries, Horst; I assure you I have plenty of time."

"Aye, but so do they, Vander."

"Let's go, honey," Amos said sweetly to Morgan, suddenly. It snapped her from her nervous trance, and she nodded.

"Of course, dear," she said, smiling as they rose and Amos wrapped his arm around her waist and they walked from the pub. But as soon as they had gotten down the street and turned the corner, both gasped and separated.

"I was about to bolt, Amos!" Morgan gasped, looking around.

"I know, we had to get out," Amos said, "Switzerland! He's getting closer!"

"We should have killed him, Amos, we had the chance!" Morgan said; "We could have—"

"What, tried to kill him and them be killed ourselves?" Amos finished; "No, even I have enough sense to know that we stood no chance. Besides, you know Vander has more power than us, what with that damn potion always near his grasp. We're like mice trying to fight the lion!"

"We need to get back," Morgan said; "Sabet and the others must know of this."

Amos nodded. Taking Morgan's hand, he began chanting. Soon, their forms began to fade, and as if blown by a sudden wind, they were gone.

TBC

A/N: I'm so sorry this was late, everyone, school is a bitch. But it's here, so read and review!

Thank you, by the way, for the 45 reviews! Until again!!!


	17. The First Sign of Defiance

**A/N:** First off, I want to thank everyone for reviewing.

Okay, now for some explaining.

The reason why I ask (see that I **ask**, not demand) for a certain number of reviews is just to see how many people will actually review. See, I lost the hit counter, so how can I tell if people enjoy it? The reviews I have gotten have been wonderful, except for LL, but criticism is wonderful as well!

And the summer holiday will influence their school year, I understand I'm drawing it out, I mean to. Don't worry though, this chapter they leave.

But, you all are right, no more requirements, just read my story.

Also, as a final note, I did repost an **_Inuyasha_** story. Just go to my bio and please take a moment to read it. There's only one chapter, and it's short.

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine_

Author's notes

**.-.-.-.-.-.-17-.-.-.-.-.-.**

**TWO DAYS LATER**

Harry rose, and quickly packed. Today, they were boarding the Hogwarts Express. At least, he would be. Snape and Remus had both expressed a sense of worry over the matter, Snape even going so far as to saying the Dumbledore planned on having him followed. Harry only laughed; the bastard had been doing that for forever.

So now, with his trunk packed and he himself ready to go, Harry went downstairs. He levitated his trunk behind him, with Oswarae swooping down past his head with a cackling caw. Why the bird was in such a good mood was a mystery to Harry, but he himself had a newfound sense of urgency to go.

Leaving his trunk at the front door, Harry went into the kitchen, to see Snape reading the _Prophet_ and Draco reading the front page of it, leaning over the table to do so. His eyes were wide with surprise; silver eyes alight with nervous anger.

"_'Escapees from Azkaban still not found'_," Harry mumbled as he read the headline. So the Ministry chose to let the public know _two days later_. Harry snorted; "About time," he muttered; "So, when do we leave?"

"You've known?" Draco asked, looking at Harry critically.

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, tapping at his forehead; "I can't help it," he said; "Besides, just because your father and Dolohov got out doesn't mean—"

"With his two most powerful Death Eaters free again, the Dark Lord will now have more doors opened again," Snape said, lowering the paper. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, now feeling as if he were thirty years older; "I received an owl from Albus before the paper came," he said, looking at Harry; "You're not to board the train. The Order will escort you to Hogwarts."

"Bullshit!" Harry said angrily; "I'm not afraid! Damnit, Lucius is nothing to me, I can handle—"

"Dumbledore still doesn't know you are a vampire," Draco interjected; "Stop acting like you're king of the world and come back down to the bloody earth. You'd be powerless because you couldn't attack my father the way you want to," he paused; "Just go along with it for appearance's sake."

Harry paused, averting his gaze to glare at the wall. He finally sighed; Draco was right. "Fine," he said, "But when will they be here?"

"Any moment, I presume," Snape muttered, rising; "Draco, are you packed?"

"Yes, Severus, I am," Draco replied; "Why?"

"Just checking," Snape said; "We'll need to leave when The Order escorts Harry."

"This is a load of bull," Harry mumbled irately, his fine attitude stomped into the ground by irony. "I'm gonna go into the sitting room and wait, I guess..." he mumbled, then he left.

"Ooh, have I a bone to pick with you," Draco called, getting up and following him.

Harry walked into the sitting room, turning to see Draco enter as well; "What?" he asked.

"Oh, shut up," Draco said; "Just because your '_plan_' isn't going to work out just yet doesn't mean you've the right to throw some fit."

"I'm not going to," Harry said as he sat down on the couch.

"Oh please, I know you too well," Draco said, crossing his arms; "And another thing," he said, "You're fine, right?"

"Of course," Harry said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"So, you could safely say no suicidal thoughts?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged and shook his head; "No," he replied; "Why the interrogation?"

"Good, now I can stop acting like a sodding girl," Draco continued to say, sighing.

"_Acting_?" Harry asked, smirking when Draco looked at him darkly; "I know, Draco," he said; "You were just giving me what I wanted, to feel like I had, have, someone, who's willing to go the distance," he paused, then grimaced; "Great, moment..."

"Well, I'm flattered," Draco said, brushing his hair back; "Anyway, who do you think will come to get you?"

"Well, it won't be any Weasleys," Harry said, "Dumbledore won't, he's too busy with Hogwarts, Hagrid won't... Dumbledore probably won't let Remus... so that leaves Kingsley, Tonks, or a random Ministry official."

"Wow, what numbers you all have," Draco said with dulled sarcasm; "Well, I'm off to pack..."

"Thought you did?" Harry asked, getting up.

"I lied!" Draco said, and then he was gone, up the stairs and to his room.

Harry smiled and shook his head, and he was about to go back into the kitchen, but he heard a knock on the front door. Groaning, he went into the hall, and saw Snape coming from the kitchen. Draco was at the top of the stairs, watching. They all glanced at each other, and then Snape opened the door.

* * *

_Clang... click... clang... click... clang... click..._

The lighter was opened, then it was closed, a monotonous distraction for an otherwise anxious mind. Jabez Wilscott looked around, dark eyes taking in everything that happened at the Muggle train station. He was leaning against a railing of the overpass, which went across and over the tracks. But his eyes were on a certain platform, well, two, but more so on the middle pillar between them.

_Platforms nine and ten..._ the vampire thought, smirking as he watched a woman and her child, who was pushing a very laden cart, towards it. The child appeared timid, no more than eleven. But his mother was kind as she directed him, at a great rush, through the pillar.

_Nine 'n' three quartahs, _Jabez thought.

He still waited, watching as trains came and went. It was still early in the day, barely eight thirty. Supposedly, the Hogwarts Express didn't pull out and leave until nine thirty. Jabez thought of using his Muggle money to purchase coffee, but then thought against it. He needed to save it just in case.

_Some coffee would be nice, though_, he whined mentally, brushing his auburn hair from his face and eyes. He yawned absentmindedly, covering his mouth with his hand as he turned around to watch the other side of the station. Back against the stone, he crossed his arms.

_Muggles're so peculiar_, he thought, desperate to avoid boredom. He watched as a rather large woman tried to round up her three children, though it was not working. Jabez suppressed his mirth over the situation, looking elsewhere.

It was then his senses detected another vampire. Jabez looked around, keen eyes picking through the crowds like a hawk searching the fields for that single mouse. At first, he thought it was just a hunch, but then he saw Damien Riggs, dressed in Muggle attire and making his way off of a train and stepping onto the platform.

_/Damien, ya fool, what're ye doin' here?/_ Jabez projected to the fellow vampire.

Damien appeared unfazed as the voice filled his head. He made his way off to the side, and commenced with looking around. /_Jabez, where are you?/_ he projected the reply, still searching.

/_The bridge_.../

Damien looked, and spotted Jabez waving at him. Damien quickly made his way through the growing crowds, and reached Jabez; "What're ya doin' 'ere?" Jabez asked before Damien could greet him.

"I'm here for the stake-out," Damien said; "Got off work today and Sable asked me to join you, in case something were to happen."

Jabez shook his head at the codename for Sabet, turning to absently watch a train pass below them; "Well, this stake-oot's a bust," he said; "We cuhd jus' wait ah tha pla'form, buh..." he shook his head; "Too risky."

"I might as well do that... Hey, do you know how Morgan's fairing?"

"Wot's wrong wit' 'er?" Jabez asked, head snapping towards the other vampire in nervous surprise.

"Well, after she an' Amos returned, she left. No one's heard from her. Amos went after her, but... he's gone too."

"Prob'ly off together," Jabez mumbled, sighing; "Ye know those two. They're a team, wot's ta stop 'em?"

"Sable's worried that Vandal has them," Damien whispered as he leaned against the railing as well; "He can't even make contact with them."

"Well, Morgan an' Amos are tha best ah Legilemins. They're prob'ly jus' up ta somethin'..."

"Sure hope you're right, Jabez..."

* * *

Harry sighed as Kingsley walked in, watching on as Snape shook hands with the black man; "Arthur thought I'd be best for the job," Kingsley stated with a smirk; "I'm supposed to transport Harry from here, to Hogwarts," Kinglsey looked at Harry; "Ready, Harry?" he asked.

"Yeah, let me get my shoes on," Harry said, turning to walk up the steps. He found the Draco had already gone to his room to continue packing, and he went into his to put on his boots.

After doing so, Harry walked into Draco's room, to see the blonde folding clothing with his back facing the door. Harry walked up; and wrapping his arms around Draco's waste he leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to Draco's cheek.

Draco closed his eyes and smirked, leaning back on Harry; "Don't kill anyone unless I'm there," he whispered, looking at Harry placidly.

"Kill anyone?" Harry asked, laughing quietly; "Now why would I ever do that?" he asked sarcastically.

"Oh, I don't know," Draco said, turning around in Harry's arms to face him; "Perhaps you might run into a certain redheaded arsehole?"

"Which one?" Harry asked, and Draco laughed.

"Yes, indeed," Draco said; "But don't have all the fun, okay? And miss me."

"Oh, if you insist," Harry said, rolling his eyes before he kissed Draco again. It was heated, yet gentle, leaving both in need of air; "Miss me," Harry whispered breathlessly, pulling at Draco's bottom lip with his teeth barely as he took his hands from the Blonde.

"Who wouldn't miss that?" Draco asked as he did the same; "Hurry, Kingsley's waiting."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said; "But at least it's not someone else."

"True, true, now get going!"

* * *

Kingsley and Snape watched Harry depart, then Snape turned to Kinglsey and fiercely whispered; "Whatever you've been instructed to do..."

"Arthur only said for me to get Harry from points A to B, Severus, trust me I wouldn't have accepted the job if it was anything else. I still think I should let him take the train, but with Lucius and Dolohov out of Azkaban..."

"No, you taking him yourself is far safer. How are you going to do that, get him from A to B?"

"A car."

"A what?"

"A _car._ You know, the Muggle contraptions that take them _down the road_?"

"Where on earth would you get a hold of one of them? And WHY?!"

"Because, Severus, I _own_ one for I live in a Muggle apartment, and I know how to _drive_ one. Tell me, what Death Eater would think that the Order would risk that?"

"...Was it Arthur's crackpot idea?"

"No, it was _mine_."

* * *

Harry smirked as he heard the last three frames of the argument, and made his way down the stairs. Kingsley and Snape turned and watched him, "What?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Kingsley said; "Ready?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and he turned to Severus; "Thank-you, Severus," he said; "For... everything..."

"Not a problem, Harry," Severus said, smirking slightly; "Just be sure to keep your head on your shoulders. It's a different world, now..."

Harry nodded, and held a hand out to his trunk. The object stopped its gentle rotating, and as Kingsley opened the door and left, it followed Harry out as he too, left.

"And I'd advise you not to do that around anyone other than us!" Snape called as he watched Kingsley and Harry load the trunk into the back of the car.

"Yeah, yeah!" Harry said as he got into the passenger side, Kingsley in the driver.

Harry sighed as he sat back in the cushioned seat, staring ahead of him. Kingsley soon had then driving down the country road, away from Hogsmead, but Harry noticed that they were going faster than average speed.

"What did you do to this thing?" Harry asked as he looked out the windows, trying to follow bushes and trees as they passed them in a blur.

"_Locamortis_," Kingsley said; "And I'm not the one who placed the spell... Dumbledore did."

"So, you're not really driving?" Harry asked, settling back and looking at Kingsley.

"No, but having my hands on the steering wheel gives me some sense of power on the situation," Kingsley replied simply; "It'll take us to the leaky cauldron, and we'll floo through one of their private fireplaces to the school. Then, you're on your own I guess," he paused; "Remus accepted the job of the DADA professor, so you won't be totally surrounded," he smiled wryly as he glanced at Harry.

"Tell me about it," Harry said; "It's starting to sink in how risky this is, us breaking from the Order an' all..."

"Hey, your side's got the right motives, Harry," Kingsley said; "Manuel... he doesn't deserve what's he's been given, it sickens me. To hell if the Order tries to kill me, I will not work for them anymore..."

Harry nodded; "I've never met these people that you and Draco speak of," he said quietly.

"You will," Kingsley said; "Trust me Harry, you'll be around a lot longer than I, you and Draco will probably replace the Council one day."

"Wouldn't that be something..." Harry mumbled as he leaned against the door and took in the comfortable silence.

* * *

They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron almost three hour later, and both got out. Harry and Kingsley unloaded the trunk, ignoring curious looks from Muggles driving and walking by. Since they couldn't magically, Kingsley and Harry carried the trunk in, walking into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Shacklebolt, just the man I've been wanting to see!"

Kingsley and Harry froze in the crowded pub, Kingsley looking around for who had called his name. Dedalus Diggle made his way over, adjusting his hat. Kingsley glanced at Harry.

"Ah, Mister Potter, glad to see you as well!" the overly-chipper wizard said; "Now, Kingsley, I have important business to discuss with you revolving around a certain vamp—"

"My obligations at the moment far exceed yours, Dedalus, not to be rude," Kingsley interjected; "I have important matters to attend to," he nodded his head in Harry's direction, who sighed.

"Yes, well, be that as it may..."

"No, Dedalus, I must finish this _then_ we can talk. I shall meet you at the _Three Broomsticks_..." with that said, Kingsley began to walk away, Harry having no choice but to follow as the tall black man made his way up to the far side, where there was a hall leading to private rooms.

"He wanted to talk to you about Manuel," Harry whispered after they entered a private room; "Kingsley, what would Dedalus want to do with your branch of work? Isn't he—"

"Things change, Harry, and the Ministry is no exception," Kingsley cut him off as he went to the fireplace. He took a green jar from the mantle a little too roughly, pulling the top off with more force than intended. Harry knew the man was angry, and he knew why. Dedalus had ruined the day for them both by his own innocent unknowing.

Secrets were far too cruel, Harry knew. Kingsley did, as well. He realized that if the madness escalated too far, lives would be torn apart, the world would shatter. Once again, the giant rock of Irony had crushed what little renewed hope and happiness he had.

Harry was drawn from his thoughts as he was given a fistful of Floo Powder; "Harry, come to!" Kingsley said; "Come on, take this, and saw 'Common Room, Floor seven, Hogwarts. It will take you to Gryffindor Tower..."

"I don't want to go there," Harry said bitterly, but under Kingsley's stern glare, he complied. As Harry said the words, his trunk was shoved in after him, following him through the intricate paths of the connected system.

Harry shouted out with indignant pain as he fell through the fire place and came into contact with the coffee table, stubbing his toe and knee. He barely avoided being bowled over by his trunk, falling to toe ground on his stomach as it shot out after him. The trunk crashed into the wall, and as it thudded to the ground, Harry sat up. He then burst out laughing.

The trunk had collided with, and totally destroyed, the portrait of Godric Gryffindor. Harry laughed, the hollow sound filled with malicious mirth. "Serves you," he said after his laughter had subsided.

* * *

Draco stood on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Trunk at his feet. Snape had dropped him off before getting onto the train alone for a staff meeting, leaving the Slytherin Prince to his own. Draco didn't mind. In fact, he didn't have to wait long, for Pansy and Blaise soon appeared.

"Zambini!" Draco called, catching the two's attention. With blatant smirks on their faces, Pansy and Blaise approached, their trunks having already been loaded onto the train.

"Draco, darling!" Pansy squealed, giving Draco a breath-stealing hug.

"Gah, off me, woman!" Draco protested, knowing he could have thrown her from him in a moment. But he let pansy remove herself, and he gasped for air.

"So, where uh, is your _charge_, eh?" Blaise asked with dulled curiosity, looking around, as if checking for spies.

"Bumblefuck had him whisked away after news of the escapees," Draco drawled, taking his trunk. He explained, briefly, had the summer had gone to his two closest associates, leaving certain events out that would have otherwise said bad for Harry and him. He loaded his trunk onto the train; well, shoving it on board, knowing it would be taken care of.

"So, in other words," Blaise said after Draco was finished; "You and Harry...together... on no side of this war... in the middle?"

Draco sighed and shook as he drawled; "Yes, to put it simply. Come on, the train whistle should be sounding and I want a good compartment."

Blaise and Pansy nodded, but as the triad moved to get into the Train, they heard a very angry, very loud, and all too familiar cry.

"MALFOY!"

Draco was halfway up the ladder-steps when he heard the shout, and he groaned as he turned his head and saw Ron walking over to them, flanked by Dean, And Hermione, though she seemed unsure. Dean and Ron, no, they were angered, immensely. Dean of course was more than likely under the influence of Ron's anger, and Hermione was along to show support for her boyfriend.

"What now, Weasel?" Draco drawled, hanging onto the high-bar along the awning as he leaned back elegantly, a clear show of defiance and higher authority.

"What the fuck have you lot done with Harry?" Dean asked, malicious intent ringing through his voice.

"Ooh, language, Thomas," Blaise chided; "There are women in our presence."

"Oh Blaise, it's fine," Pansy swooned, holding onto his arm; "I don't care what the arseholes say, they are just fuckheads after all," she added quietly, grinning snidely.

"You _haughty bitch_!" Hermione exclaimed, a look of outrage on her face.

"Watch what you say, mudblood," Blaise said dangerously.

"Children, honestly," Draco said dryly, rolling his eyes; "The threat was issued to me from the Weasel. Let the riff-raff have his say. It's the most I could do," he added pessimistically.

Ron was fuming, hands balled into fists as he glared at the Malfoy; "Where has Harry gone?" he asked irately, trying to sustain the anger building inside him rapidly. Any second and he was sure to be finding himself ripping into the arrogant blonde.

"Well, why don't you ask your beloved Headmaster?" Draco asked tamely; "He's the one who indicated that Harry be brought to school by means other than the train. I only know that an_ Order_ member came to gather him," he laughed haughtily at Ron and Hermione's shocked expression; "You think I forgot? Oh, you thought I_ didn't know_ about Dumbledore's little gathering?" he asked arrogantly; "Please, I was staying with the Savior of the Wizarding World _and_ my godfather. Don't expect me to not notice what goes on, I'm not as slow as you, Weasel."

"You pompous—arrogant... bastard child—" Ron stammered in his anger, barely being held back by Dean and Hermione.

"Yes, I'm aware of what my father is," Draco said cooly; "But if that is an insult to my mother, I will have to kill you here, regardless of Azkaban."

"Look, it's obvious you're not keen on helping," Hermione said; "But it's obvious that you've also turned your back on the Death Eaters."

"I've done no such thing, mudblood," Draco said; "And keep your voice down before I have to hex you."

"So just tell us if Harry's fine," Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, he's 'fine'," Draco said, "Now, come along, Blaise, Pansy, let's get a good compartment..."

The blonde stood on the small platform, and entered the train. Blaise glared at the Gryffindors as he assisted Pansy up, then they both went in as well.

"Ron, what are we to do now?" Hermione asked in a feverish whisper as Dean groaned and departed to find Seamus.

"We'll find him and knock some sense into him, that's what we'll do," Ron muttered; "Come on, 'Mione, let's find the others..." he took her hand as they walked along the platform to find Ginny and Neville.

* * *

"I swear, why don't we just curse them all?" Blaise asked once the three had found a compartment and he had successfully closed the door and made sure they wouldn't be overheard.

"Because none of us want to go to Azkaban," Draco mused, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned his elbow against the window and sighed.

"Draco, what's the matter?" Pansy asked; "Is it that Equinox thing again?" she asked quietly, barely a whisper.

"No," Draco nearly snapped, but his tone remained calm; "I'm... oddly troubled..."

"Oh, do enlighten us," Blaise as he sat beside his girlfriend, who sat across from Draco; "It's not everyday _you're_ troubled."

"Sarcasm can have a man killed, Blaise, remember that," Draco said, glancing at him dangerously. But, he sighed again as he looked out the window; "This year will be a living hell. What a fun time we will have..."

* * *

Harry put on his school robes, not looking at the Gryffindor emblem that adorned it, and then shrank his trunk and placed it in his pocket. Checking the clock on the wall, he saw that it was only three. Sighing, he went to the window, looking outside and sighing again. He had to admit that the tower had a pleasant view of the grounds and mountains, and the lake. He smirked as he saw a lengthy tentacle rise out of the water and swat at the air, before submerging once again.

Harry sighed, and, sitting down in the nearest armchair, he then sank back and closed his eyes. His mind traveled over Hogwarts, past the boundaries, the wards, searching for his target. The edge of his vision was blurry and he was seeing through a tunnel, the darkness taking him before a flash of light.

And so, Harry had entered his soul's sanctum once again.

* * *

Draco woke from his rest as the train came to a halt, the brakes emitting the horrid, high-pitched noise as they stopped the locomotive. Draco stretched, and since he had put on his school robes prior, exited the cart silently, Blaise and Pansy, who had also redressed earlier, following him. They all set apathetic looks on their features, silently leaving the train. Crowds parted to let Draco through; though his father was an escaped Death Eater on the loose, he was still Draco Malfoy, regardless, and as The Ice Prince, his demand for respect was given to him. No one had quite forgotten his power.

"Ooh, look at the looks we're receiving;" Blaise muttered with an amused chuckle; "Such fools..."

"Indeed," Draco said as he selected a carriage. He suddenly stopped as he opened the door, and turned to look at Blaise; "Where have Crabbe and Goyle gone?" he asked.

"Oh, somewhere," Blaise said; "Goyle told me that they'd meet us in Great Hall, so let's get a carriage and get to school before we get left behind."

* * *

Harry snapped out of his subconscious with the chiming of the clock. Six times it chimed, and Harry smirked as he rose. By now, Dumbledore would have preached about the third floor, the forest, any updates, possibly the war, Harry didn't particularly care what the windbag said, so long as hot air got out and he could put into motion the first act of his stratagem.

Like a shadow, he snuck through the portrait, walking gracefully down the hall to the stairs, evident power in his gate. He looked every part the handsome Golden Savior, his emerald eyes masking his cunning. His smirk played on his lips, but it disappeared once he met the Entrance Hall. Harry stood outside the closed doors that would open to Great Hall, and sighed once to collect his thoughts.

* * *

"...Zorrick, Adam!"

The last child hurriedly jogged to the stool, sitting anxiously upon it and literally vibrating from excitement as the hat was lowered onto his head. McGonagall stepped away with a slight smirk, amused at the young boy's eagerness.

"RAVENCLAW!!!!!!!!!!!!"

After the hat's bellowing proclamation, the child removed the hat and rushed off to his new House, to sit down at the cheering table. Dumbledore rose, a fake twinkle in his eyes to mask his otherwise morose emotions and worries. He gazed at the student body of his school, missing one very important face. Harry had not shown, and Dumbledore as at a loss as to what he should be expecting out of the boy.

"Now, with sorting done, and all announcements said and all past issues cleared," Dumbledore began with a false smile; "Let the...the..."

The candles the hovered in the air below the imitated sky ceiling began to flicker, stopping their individual revolutions around the room. There was a gust of wind that formed out of nowhere, and the flames flickered and cast dancing shadows along the walls. Several first years screamed, younger students cowered together, though some bold ones joined the older of the masses in taking up their wands, ready for attack.

Draco sat at his place, at the head of the Slytherin table, smirking as the scenario played out. Blaise and Pansy were surprised into fear, but upon seeing Draco's look of ironic expectance, they calmed dramatically.

"Show-off," Draco muttered sarcastically as his head turned to stare at the door. /Any day now/ he thought irritably, fingers tapping rhythmically against the wooden table.

Dumbledore rose when the wind harassing the flames blew them out completely, sending the Great Hall into total darkness and eliciting screams from scared students. The other professors rose, save for Remus and Snape, who both knew almost immediately what was going to happen.

The doors flew open, the light from the stain-glass windows flooding in, casting a lone figure in a pool of yellow-gold, like that of sunlight. Many students jumped up as well, wands at the ready, thought most hands shook with fear. Harry Potter stood there, emerald eyes seeming to be swirling in silver. His face seemed set in determination, yet his eyes seemed to yield no emotion, save for a lurking rebellion.

As Harry walked down the four steps, and then down between the tables of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, the candles came back to life, following in the wake of the extensive magic he'd just preformed, wandless. Everyone watched, too shocked, fearful, or nervous, breaths catching in throats and all eyes on Harry.

But Harry kept his eyes on Dumbledore, now clearly showing arrogant defiance of the man who had ruined his life intentionally to cause him to become what he had been. Harry walked up to the teacher's table, standing in front of Dumbledore, who looked at him with a mixed gaze of worry and looming defeat.

"Mister Potter," Dumbledore said with a sigh, sitting down; "So glad that you could finally join your fellow students, but I would like an explanation for this... _show_,of power you have just graced us with."

"I demand a re-sorting on my place as a Gryffindor," Harry said, his voice resonating throughout the Great Hall. His very blatant and bold statement was greeted with gasps, from everyone.

"That is quite impossible!" McGonagall said suddenly, her voice easily an octave higher; "Mister Potter, you know that once you are sorted you stay in your House throughout your seven years attending!"

"But ruling is that, under circumstances regarding the welfare of the student, the student has the option to be resorted into a House that is not their own," Harry said, not looking at her; "And I believe that my circumstances are valid to this ruling," he said, and he mentally smirked as he saw the twinkle fade from his Headmaster's eyes.

Dumbledore coughed, unwillingly showing his defeat; "You've no choice but to agree to my request, sir," Harry said, containing the venom he longed to allow to drip in his voice; "If you think I'm lying, then you could just read my mind. GO ahead, my walls are down."

_/Harry, you fool, don't risk anything!/_

Harry showed no reaction as Draco's voice filled his head. He continued to gaze at Dumbledore, all the while knowing he was entering his mind. Harry allowed it, though he blocked several things and replaced them with false scenarios. Dumbledore took it all, buying every single show. Finally, he withdrew, and Harry purposefully swayed on his feet, as if to show he had barely kept control from falling over.

"Minerva, I consent to Mister Potter's request," Dumbledore said wearily, eliciting gasps from several in the hushed crowd.

Harry smirked slightly, turning to McGonagall. The look of utter disgrace and failure was on her old face, causing a very slight wave of guilt. But Harry knew that she too, had consented to his life, that she had known about every _swing_ Vernon took, and had still done nothing.

In his opinion, she deserved no pity, no remorse, and no loyalty from him. Harry held out his hand, and Minerva, with shaking hands of her own, gave him the Sorting Hat. Without so much as sitting down, or giving anyone a glance, the hat was lowered onto his ebony locks.

_Ah, Harry Potter, it has been quite a while, has it not?_ The hat's voice was conversational and calm, as if glad to have a familiar mind to talk to.

Harry crossed his arms as he closed his eyes. _It has,_ he replied._ But I need to be resorted._

_Ah, finally, come to your senses about my first placement?_

_Yes, could you please skip the gloating and put me in the right House?_

..._And so it begins, then..._

Before Harry could question the last statement, the Hat's voice boomed loud and clear, a stark serenade of the future...

"**SLYTHERIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**"

And Draco smirked, amidst the horrified gasps. The school hadn't known that their Golden Child, their Savior, was anything but a Gryffindor. _What a callous mistake_, he thought sardonically.

And Harry gently removed the Hat, holding it out to a shocked McGonagall, who took it, barely able to grasp the ragged and patched rim. Harry turned his head, staring at Dumbledore and reveling in the man's attempt to hide his defeat. He knew that Harry's rebellion had only just begun.

Harry then faced forward, and walked down between the two tables, looking neither proud, arrogant, nor pleased. His face was emotionless, eyes baring no truth of feeling, his steps sounding through the deathly silent hall, the only sound that carried. The candles began to flicker as he passed beneath them, though none were extinguished for the gust had yet to be conjured up again.

As Harry walked up the steps again, intent on leaving, he looked at Draco, their eyes meeting and exchanging knowledge and commendable words. Harry then looked away, and was gone from Great Hall, the doors creaking shut behind him, slowly, leaving a lasting impression of sound and meaning.

As the Hall erupted with talking, McGonagall rushed to the table, slamming the hat down upon it as she spoke to Dumbledore feverishly; "Dear God, Albus, what will we do?!"

Dumbledore shook his head wearily, looking down the table. He was surprised to see his Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher apparently deep in conversation, and he knew it instantly revolved around one Harry Potter.

"I don't quite know, Minerva," Dumbledore finally reply, looking at her

**

* * *

**

**TBC**

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_A/N:_

I ask all of you who read to forgive me of my arrogance. I should not be asking for so much, it is obvious that my story is enjoyed by the masses and that is what matters.

I will update as soon as possible!!!!


	18. The Lion in a Den of Snakes

**A/N:** First off, I want to thank everyone for reviewing.

Okay, now for some explaining.

The reason why I haven't had Draco and Harry...do it, it because it ties along with the plot, and don't worry they do it in the end.

No one's reviewed my **INUYASHA** story... I'm hurt, I thought it would be good...

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine_

((Author's notes))

**------18------**

The halls were empty, quiet, and the shadows cast dancing figures along the walls. Harry knew that he would have an hour or so to get to know the dungeons and find the Slytherin Commons, but because of Draco's constant images he was sending, Harry quickly found himself in front of the right slab of black stone.

"_And as the serpent kills the lion_," he muttered in Latin.

The stone wall groaned, before opening up to allow him entrance. Harry stepped through, looking back as the wall fell back down to grace the floor. He then turned, and smirked at what would be his new home. The common room had yet to change since his ventured down in his second year.

Harry sighed, and walked towards a hall on the other side of the Common Room. He began walking down it, before coming to a split, to the right were the girls' and the left the boys' dormitories. Harry of course took left.

He finally came to an extravagant, oak door, charmed a dark hue to go with the walls. The sconces cast flickering lights over it, and Harry saw the intricate snakes carved into it, and to his surprise, they were moving. One snake, which stayed curled in the center, seemed to be watching Harry. He recognized it at once to be a small basilisk.

"Why are yooooou here?" the basilisk carving hissed, his head coming from the wall completely. Harry stepped back in surprise.

"I'll be staying here," he hissed in Parseltongue.

The Snape leaned its head back in surprise, it hadn't expected that; "Of coooourse," it hissed; "The passsssword?"

"_Aequinoctium_ ((1))," Harry muttered the Latin, smirking as he crossed his arms.

Nodding, the snake fell back into the door, and the other four around it slithered together to form a circle. With a chorus of slight hissing, the door swung open. Nodding with admiration at the magic, Harry walked through it.

Slytherins were very blessed that they lived in spacious dungeons. Draco's room was more of a half-flat; it only lacked a decent kitchen. There was a sitting area, a door that led to a bedroom; and another that would lead to the bathroom. Harry marveled at the dark greens, smooth silvers, and deep blacks, all molding to create a warm, comfortable atmosphere.

Harry quickly crossed the sitting area and entered the bedroom. He smirked; there would be room for a second bed, though he hardly doubted it would be needed for long. He looked around, taking in the room. There was, of course, a lavish bed, a door to a closet, and then a small nook that was two steps up into a small inlet with a desk and small library. There was also a single window; at level with the ceiling and above the side of the bed nearest the far wall.

Harry pulled out his matchbox-sized trunk, and muttering the counter charm, he set it on the ground and stepped back to give it room to revert to its original size. He then went over and took a book from a shelf, seeing it was a meaningless one on Quidditch that could be easily replaced and threw it on the ground, by the wall in the desired spot. Holding his hands out towards it, Harry closed his eyes and imagined the book transforming into a bed identical to Draco's. Feeling the magic flow from his fingertips sent a sudden rush through Harry, and he marveled in the power he possessed. A minute later, he opened his eyes, seeing a bed as he had imagined. The blankets were slightly lighter, but it did not matter much.

Harry then went to the closet, and threw the door open. Turning back to the trunk, he motioned for it to come, and, with a shake, it scooted over, bunching up the rug as it did. Cursing under his breath, Harry levitated the trunk into the large walk-in closet, and opened it. With each wave of his hand, clothing flew up and folded themselves as they were set in shelves, and all of his school supplies went to the office alcove.

Harry removed his heavy robes and threw them on his bed, before stretching. Sighing he walked out of the closet and took a random book from the bookshelves, before walking out of the chambers and down the hallway again.

Entering the Common Room, he sat down on a sofa, placing himself in the middle, and opened the book up. He found that it was based on the history of wizards, and by the text, the majority were dark. Harry soon became bored with it, but his sharp hearing soon caught the sounds of rushed footsteps, a muffled stampede heading his way. Harry yawned, appearing unconcerned as he heard the wall groan as it rose. The stampede grew louder very quickly, and Harry tried his best to block out the sounds as Slytherins filled the Common Room. Draco was in front, his Malfoy mask on perfectly.

"Potter, what the hell got up your arse to pull a stunt like that?!" A young man Harry knew only as Nott shouted, shoving his way through the crowd.

Harry looked at him dully, a blank yet apathetic look on his features as he rose, setting the book down on a nearby table; "Well, Nott, it appears that _realization_ got up my arse," he said, raising an eyebrow; "You all didn't actually think I was _that_ _Golden_, did you?"

Silence greeted this, and Draco turned around to face the crowd; "Alright!" he said loudly; "All of you fifth year and down get to your rooms! NOW!" he added as fair warning, glaring at them while at the same time taking his wand from his robes.

In a flash, the common room as emptied nearly completely. Harry shook his head in admiration and sat down, looking around at the few that were left. There weren't many Slytherins in the sixth and seven years, especially the latter. Harry figured that most had been inducted into the Death Eaters.

* * *

Ron, Hermione, and the other Gryffindors met in the Common Room as quickly as they could after the feast. Watching the entire Slytherin body get up and leave literally as one had told them all rough times were ahead. Now, Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Ginny, Lavender, and Padma all sat in the common room, off to the side and away from everyone else. They had all brought armchairs to the corner, and a couch, as well. 

"Hermione, Ron, you two were closest to Harry," Seamus said anxiously, wringing his hands out of tense nervousness; "What the hell... I mean _why_ the hell did he do that? Switch to Bloody _Slytherin_!" he gasped, throwing his hands up in dismay and sitting in Dean's lap.

"I...I..." Hermione stammered, looking down as she was at a loss for words.

"He's gone _fucking dark_, that's why!" Ron suddenly exploded, the only thing keeping him from storming down to the dungeons was his remaining rational thought.

"Ron! Language!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Sorry, 'Mione, but can you blame me?" Ron asked; "We had no idea," he said to the crowd.

"Some best friends you two were," Lavender said snidely; "Maybe _that's _why he left."

"No, the reasons have to be deeper," Neville said; "Harry wouldn't just leave because he suddenly didn't like you both."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, looks the others caught; "Alright, what do you two know?!" Dean asked; "Come on, spill, this is vital!"

"Dean, we can't," Hermione said, desperately trying to control her emotions as she looked at him.

"Well why the _hell _not?" Seamus mumbled, his head resting on Dean's chest as he looked at Hermione and Ron with a hint of anger in his eyes.

"Honestly, is that your new favorite word?" Dean asked lightly, ruffling his lover's hair.

"Yes," Seamus grumbled.

"It'd put a lot of things and a lot of people at risk," Hermione said.

There was silence then, as everyone was engrossed in thought. Finally, Ginny spoke, her voice quite and solemn; "What about the DA?"

"Well, it's obvious," Hermione said; "We'll just have to manage without Harry."

"Yeah, if he went to Slytherin, chances are he's turned his back on us for good," Neville said glumly.

* * *

"So Potter, give us an explanation," Nott all but growled, glaring at the former Gryffindor as he Nott sat in an armchair. The others, too, found seats, all wanting the same explanation. 

"Well, as most of you probably know," Harry said; "and I know you do; I'd been staying with Professor Severus Snape over the remaining two and a half-months of summer holiday. Over that time, I came to realize many flaws for a side supposedly of the 'Light'. We all know that betrayal is hardly a righteous quality. Therefore, as an act of rebellion, I have returned to the House I originally was meant to be in."

There were several gasps from the young women, and a few boys gawked. Draco rolled his eyes and finally sat beside Harry on the couch, which caused more controversy.

"Yes," Harry said; "Had it not been for Dumbledore's meddling, I would have been Slytherin. There is too much to explain, and as I trust virtually none of you as of yet, many shall never know the true extent of my switch..."

"So, finally came to your senses, did you?" Blaise quipped, desperate do break the tension; "_Finally_."

Harry smirked; "Yes, well," he glanced at Draco; "Things will be changing, for them the worse, for us the better."

"Oh so how would you do that?" Nott asked snidely.

"My plans are for my knowledge, not yours," Harry replied just as, perhaps with more distaste; "All I can say is that things will change."

"You've pretty much thrown the whole school off-balance," someone said.

Harry laughed quietly; "Is that what I've done?" he asked innocently; "Surely you'd think the _Golden Child _would have no intention of that?! Oh, I'm shocked by my actions," he added sarcastically, rolling his eyes, which earned him approved snickers and chuckles.

"I'm not too sure about allowing a _mudblood_ in our midst," Nott mumbled, and he gained several murmurs of approval.

"Well, I cannot help it that my mother was born a Muggle," Harry said, "yet... my father _was_ a pure blood and it is said that pure genes literally sift out the mud, in a sense," he added with a snide "what now" smirk.

Draco snickered; "Oh, come on, Nott, let it go, already," he said; "Think of it this way, now Gryffindor's moralle will be all but gone. And, with no figure head to hide behind, they'll be exposed."

At this, Nott sank back in his chair and rubbed his hands together, pure and evil mischief written on his features; "Never mind, Potter," he said; "The year's looking better already."

Harry chuckled and nodded. Draco yawned; "Well, I have a feeling that Professor Snape won't be returning to give his annual 'don't screw up' speech," he commented.

The occupants seemed to get the hint, for they all rose from their chairs and left. Finally, only Draco, Harry, Pansy and Blaise remained. Pansy and Blaise dragged two chairs over, in front of the couch.

* * *

"Albus what was the meaning of that, giving into the boy's rebellion?!" 

Albus sighed, as soon as the feast had ended, the staff members of the Order were all called to meeting, and the Auror's had been called in as well. Now, they were all in the staff room, around the large table and to say there was tension in the room was the ocean was damp.

"Albus, I must admit this is too shocking for words," Minerva said, still suffering from shock.

"I had no choice," Albus said; "It is the ruling of the school, and Harry's display of rebellion is only to be expected..."

"**Only to be expected**?!" Moody barked, outraged; "What the boy needs is a good hard lesson in respect!"

"I did see the looks he gave you, Albus," Remus said quietly.

"Albus, what I believe the problem is that Harry is feeling the pressures we've seemed to have given him and he does not know how to cope," Snape said theoretically; "Perhaps he believes a change of scenery will benefit him."

"Yes, but Slytherin?" McGonagall asked, and Snape glared at her as well. Surprisingly, Kingsley and Remus did as well.

"What Potter does is what he thinks is best," Kingsley said, "Regardless of what House he is in. The boy has a level head, and personally, I think he was meant to be in Slytherin. Past summer's shown me that much."

"It's all _your _doing!" Tonks suddenly shrieked, her finger pointed at Snape accusingly.

"Oh, and what have I done?" Snape asked apathetically.

"You've brainwashed him!" the young Auror said, falling back into her seat. She looked around, suddenly embarrassed at what she had done.

"I assure you that Severus has done nothing of the sort, Tonks," Remus said calmly, "I was there regularly, Harry hadn't changed. And don't say it was a rouse so I wouldn't worry; I know my godson. He's too powerful for _any_ form of mind control."

"So what do we tell the students?" McGonagall asked; "Rumors are bound to fly..."

"We will allow it," Dumbledore said; "I am sorry, but there is nothing we can do about this. We will just have to wait until Harry comes to his senses..."

And again, Dumbledore caught, out of the corner of his eyes, Remus and Snape quietly conversing.

- - -

"Well, I must say amazing show of defiance, Potter!" Blaise said, a grin on his features.

"Did you see Dumblefuck's face?" Draco asked, throwing his head back and laughing; "He looked like he could have dropped dead right then and there!"

Harry laughed quietly as well; "And the students!" he said; "Oh I can imagine the chaos this will cause tomorrow!"

Draco suddenly was quiet, and he slowly looked at Harry, a wicked grin on his face. Harry looked at him; "What?" he asked.

"Remember how you told me that the DA contacted each other through charmed galleons?" Draco asked quietly.

"Of course," Harry said, a cunning smirk on his face as he reached into his pocket and brought forth what looked to be a galleon; "Faze two: Bringing down Dumbledore's Army."

"You should just... _take it over_," Pansy said, "And rename it. Hell Harry, get enough kids under your wing, they'll take curses for you. Who's the Creevey boy we're always picking on?" she asked calmly to her boyfriend, and Blaise nodded.

"Aye, corner him and tell him little tidbits to win back his trust, and the little bastard will have it spread like wild fire," Blaise said, "Wonderful idea, Pansy, love."

"Yes, that is a very good idea," Harry mused, leaning back as he worked it into his own formula; "I never thought of the brat."

"We'd have to destroy his camera, though," Draco muttered darkly.

"Yes, but if he blabs the rightthings at the right time..."

* * *

Sabet paced in the great kitchens of the castle, nervous to no end. Though his outward appearance was calm and thoughtful, inside he was tearing himself apart for eminent loss. He could not contact Morgan, he couldn't contact Amos, and for that he felt guilty for his lack of being able to do so. 

Sabet was brought from his thoughts as he heard rushed footsteps, and saw a young man, barely seventeen, come down the corridor of steps and down into the kitchens. He knew that this was Evan Russell, an orphan who had been turned into a werewolf when he was merely eight. Morgan had taken the child in then, her maternal instincts saving him from the world of hate he would surely have suffered through. Upon his first transformation, they found that it was neither a painful experience, nor did he become a true werewolf. The details led them to find he was a class four lycanthrope, and a mute one at that.

"Evan, why are you so nervous?" Sabet asked kindly, facing the young man with tawny hair and nearly-golden eyes.

/Sir, something has happened! / Evan thought anxiously. /Ammil came across something while he was training! /

"Where?" Sabet asked, suddenly aware of the possible seriousness of the matter.

/On the fourth floor, sir, follow me! /

Sighing, Sabet followed as the lycanthropic ran back up the stairs. They went through the halls, Evan all the while looking back, even though he could smell Sabet following him.

Sabet took the time to think about the young werewolf's situation, what with Morgan currently missing in action. He had become extremely withdrawn; he really hadn't made contact with anyone until now. Something must be either wrong or astounding.

Ten minutes later, after traveling the halls and stairways, they reached and open door, with a faint bluish light coming from it. Sabet knew the room instantly. It was one of the Forbidden, he didn't allow many into it. Ammil was one of those not permitted.

"Ammil, what have you..." Sabet began as he stormed in, but stopped. He felt Evan collide with him from behind, but the strong vampire wasn't moved.

The vampire, Ammil, slowly turned his head, a look of shock written on his face; "There's something behind that," he whispered, as if viewing something with dulled interest, a toned that betrayed the wideness of his cobalt blue eyes.

His head turned back to stare at the veil that was glowing, the black silk being blown by an unknown wind, the blinding light coming from whatever lay behind it. The veil was hanging down from a stone archway, which was in the middle of the room that held no windows or ducts, no sconces or sources of light.

"Ammil why the hell are you in here?" Sabet asked, walking over to the other vampire.

"I heard moans, Morste," Ammil whispered, his tone shaky; "_Ungodly_ moans... ha-_horrible_..."

"Get out, and Evan, you as well," Sabet instructed, "Wait outside the door for my calls if I do."

Ammil nodded, and as he left he pulled a very curious werewolf with him. Sabet shut the door, then turned to stare at the veil. The hair on the back of his neck bristled as he heard a moan, a cry that sounded for help, pleading to him, to anyone. Sabet walked up to it, but stayed several feet away. He was unsure, the veil took those who entered and they never came out. That is why he kept the room Forbidden. He wouldn't have any of his charges or fellows fall into it. He knew the secrets of the veil, and he knew that the Ministry had one. There was also one in France, but to his knowledge it was in the process of being destroyed.

"Fudge, you daft bastard, you had better not have used this while you could," Sabet whispered, venom dripping at the name of the former minister. With contained uncertainty, he shouted out as he ripped the silk veil away, and stumbled back.

And to his amazement, just as the door was opened and Ammil and Evan came in, someone stumbled and fell from the blinding portal.

"Oh gods, it's over," the figure managed with a hoarse voice, and Sabet knew that it was a wizard instantly. The man had shaggy, long and unmanaged black hair, his skin was pale but he seemed to be nourished. The man looked at Sabet, groggily swaying on his feet for he was weak. Sabet got up and stood there.

"Who are you?" the man asked, he speech slurred as if he were drunk; "Where am I? Are you a Death Eater? Is this Voldemort's secret base? Wait, have we won? Oh gods, where is my godson? Is he alright? Where's my lover...?" the man babbled on and on, holding his hands in his hair and looking around regretfully as he moaned and spun around slowly.

"Wizard, you must calm yourself," Sabet said, "Ammil, alert the medic, please. Evan, arrange some chambers;" he instructed, and the two were gone. Sabet looked back to see the man watching him, an insane smirk on his face.

"You need help," Sabet said, and the man started laughing , throwing his shaggy hair back with his head. The sound was empty, false emotion, and it made Sabet wary.

"You know what," the man said; "I believe you're right," he tried to continue but let out a shallow gasp and began to fall forward. Throwing his hand out, Sabet stopped him, and proceeded to levitate the unconscious stranger out of the room.

* * *

Two hours later, after plotting and scheming and laughing with Blaise and Pansy, Draco and Harry stumbled into their quarters, as Harry was fooling around and groping at Draco's pants, with Draco only half-trying to stop him. 

"Harry, honestly at least let me get to the bed!" he chided jokingly, lifting Harry's chin up to kiss his lips, his tongue quickly begging for entrance. Harry allowed it, picking Draco up and going to the bedroom, doing this while his shirt was being ripped away. They fell onto the nearest bed, Draco's.

Draco broke the kiss and rolled over, now atop Harry; "So... what does this imply?" he asked quietly, leaning down so that his breath traced Harry's ear.

Harry visibly shivered; "What do you think it means?" he retorted just as quietly, hands going to Draco's shirt.

"Finally," Draco whispered, before he captured Harry's mouth again.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N: **sorry this chapter's a fill-in next one's going to be dealing with the stranger through the veil and Sabet's take on it. Also did you see the ending? It's not a cliffie!!!! "Finally" a few of you are probably saying. Anyway, I'll update as soon as possible!!!! 

((1)) Latin that ruffly means "equinox"


	19. Be Damned if We Let Go Now

**A/N:** First off, I want to thank everyone for reviewing!

No one's reviewed my INUYASHA story... I'm hurt; I thought it would be good...

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine_

((Author's notes))

* * *

**19**

* * *

Harry slowly opened his eyes, and yawned. He sat up on his elbows, supporting his torso as he blinked to clear sleep from his yes. He looked at Draco, the blonde soundly sleeping beside him. Harry couldn't help but smile at how angelic his dragon looked when sleeping...

"_My_ dragon? Harry asked himself, blinking again. It sounded so natural in his thoughts, and the same on his tongue, but it seemed to hold new meaning. He rubbed his neck in confusion, but froze. He ran his fingers over two small bumps... bite marks. Harry leaned over Draco, rolling him onto his back by lightly shoving his shoulder. Harry stared at the side of the blonde's neck; he had the same marks.

"_Draco_... Draco!" Harry said quietly, but fiercely as he shook he other boy gently.

Draco mumbled in his sleep, rolling his head to the side as he yawned and came to wakefulness. He looked up at Harry groggily, yawning again, blatantly, in his lover's face. Harry grimaced, his face written with disgust.

"What, love?" Draco asked innocently, as if he had done nothing wrong.

"I've got bite marks, as do you," Harry said, sitting back so Draco could sit up; "I remember the love-making, but it was a blur for a moment after..."

Draco's eyes suddenly widened with realization, and he looked up at Harry. "Harry," he said, his tone that of dead seriousness; "Do you know what we've done — what we _did_?"

Silently and slightly apprehensive, Harry shook his head. Draco shook his head as he bowed it. After silence, he looked back up at Harry, a small smirk playing on his features.

"What?" Harry asked, oblivious.

"We bonded," Draco said; "And the marks stay so long as it's a true bond..."

"Well, who would have thought," Harry said, looking up as he leaned back over Draco, forcing the blonde down; "I guess you are my dragon," he whispered as his eyes met the silver of Draco's, gently ghosting his hands down Draco's bare chest; "I believe payback is in order."

"Didn't you do that last night?" Draco asked, chuckling. Harry began kissing him, before moving down to his neck, lips ghosting over the mark he had left. Draco closed his eyes and sighed, groaning as he stretched. Harry stopped, his hands now braised on either side of Draco's torso.

"Why'd you stop?" Draco mumbled, opening his eyes, but he saw that Harry's eyes were looking back, head slightly turned so his ear could catch sound clearly. Before Draco could inquire further, Harry turned and continued kissing him, continuing in his ministrations ((ha got it right that time))

* * *

Blaise whistled as he walked down the hall, already anticipating the day for he knew it would be a good one for a Slytherin like himself. He stopped outside Draco's chambers and, after seeing that all the snakes on the doors were active, but sluggish, he decided on waking the Ice Prince up himself. Whispering a simple anti-password charm he'd created, Blaise entered.

"Oh bloody hell gay porn!" he shouted out in surprise as soon as he saw the bed. As he slammed the door and stumbled back, he heard both Harry and Draco's loud laughter.

As he stormed back into the common room, Pansy flagged him down; "Are Draco and Harry up yet?" she asked.

"Oh, they've _been_ up," Blaise said, "And next time, we let them sleep in."

"Why, what ha—?"

"Don't ask. I didn't wish to see Potter's ass while he was getting Draco hard."

"Well, say it as politely as you can!"

"Ugh, I'm just going to go now, you can come with me or wait on the two rabbits."

"Why call them that...? Oh... _Oooh..._"

* * *

Harry started cracking up at the outburst, hanging his head down as he did. Draco burst out laughing as well, before shoving Harry off of him and to the side.

"You bastard, you knew he was coming!" Draco said through his mirth.

Unable to speak, Harry merely nodded, before calming and coughing to clear his voice; "I just knew he'd say that!" he said happily, though the mirth was of malicious intent. Draco only shook his head and sat up, then looked down at his groin.

"Oh damn, look at that, would you," he said, his tone of mock disappointment.

Wordlessly, Harry pressed his hand to Draco's chest, and the blonde was pushed down to the bed once more.

* * *

Evan sat in the chair of the chambers, silently watching the stranger. The man had been tossing and turning since he had been placed in the bed, as if being in one prompted memories. Occasionally, he would scream out, and Evan would jump or flinch. Even though the castle was a literal menagerie, his nerves were far too exposed and he did not do well to the noises. But for the sake of his duty, he bared through it. So he sat, bathed in the sunlight as he was sitting by the parlor windows, though his eyes never left the rescued.

The room was one of the old royal chambers, decorated in reds and golds to represent the royal who had once dwelled within them once, . Evan did not know much of the castle, even though he had been living in it for almost eleven years. So, the colors were merely that to him, colors.

His gaze drifted to the window, and he watched the courtyard three stories below. There was Ammil, instructing three newly Called vampires from Russia. The vampires were growing in numbers, Evan knew, as were all the other dark creatures that possessed the human race. He was one of ten werewolves that regularly came to the castle, but that paled in comparison to the others.

Evan sighed, without his "mother" he felt alone, even though Sabet had done his best. Amos was gone as well, so there was no one to spar with. He looked back over at the stranger, wondering if he had family. He had to at least have a lover, he'd asked about that, and he also seemed to have a godson. But it all depended on how long he'd been behind that veil thing. Evan was also confused by that, he'd never been in the room before but he'd always known Sabet had his reasons. Apparently, they would good ones.

Evan was drawn from his thoughts as the stranger began to moan, a sad, morose sound of mourning; "James... oh gods, Lily," the stranger muttered, fisting the sheets as he moved and thrashed violently at the mattress.

Slowly, Evan rose, moving over to the bedside to watch the stranger as he stilled. He was growing nervous; who was James? Who had Lily been? He thought about going into the wizard's mind, finding the cause of his distress, but then thought against it. He would just have to wake him. But _how_?

Timidly, Evan reached out, his hand going to the stranger's forehead. Thinking out a spell, his hand glowed. He felt the perspiration on the wizard's skin, the heat caused by the distress and anxiety, which only made him work faster. Evan removed his hand, and rushed over and brought back a chair. He sat in it, a respectable distance from the bed, and he waited.

At first, the wizard was still, his breathing regulating. Then, he began to groan, and attempted to rise, but fell back into the mass of pillows he'd been propped on/against. His blue eyes stared around the room, filled with regret and guilt, but most of all sadness.

"No," he moaned, closing his eyes sadly. Then they snapped open, fixed on Evan. Evan froze as the man tried to sit up again, only to do the same, fall back into the pillows. His eyes glinted with anguish as he looked away.

Evan slowly rose, sensing the pain he brought to the man just by being in the room. As he headed for the door, he quickly communicated to Sabet, knowing the vampire was near. When Evan opened the door and stepped out, he saw his vampire elder rushing down the hallway, buttoning up a loose white dress shirt. Evan eyed him oddly, and Sabet shrugged, mentally explaining the reasons why as he walked into the chambers and Evan closed the doors.

Sabet was silent as he looked at the condemned wizard called Sirius Black. The man fit the picture from _the Prophet_ of yesteryear, though he was not so pale and his hair not so unkempt, though it was long and could do for a trim. The man in question was currently gazing out the window, angry, sad tears falling silently down his face, biting his lip to control any sound from escaping his mouth.

"Mister Black," Sabet said calmly, walking over with his hands held behind his back. He walked up to the foot of the bed, waiting.

"Who are you?" Sirius mumbled, not looking at the other.

"Morste Sabet," Sabet replied calmly.

Sirius looked over at him, head turning slowly; "What do you want with me?" he asked; malice and past hurt rimming his otherwise hoarse voice.

"You fell through an artifact of mine, and now, you're residing in the royal chambers," Sabet said, walking around to sit in the chair.

"Please," Sirius said, laughing dismally as he looked at the ceiling, the gold engravings seeming to glitter in the sun light; "I've fallen through the veil countless time, and it's never really happened..."

Sabet looked at him, confused, and Sirius looked at him, before chuckling again; "I bet you're just some aristocrat chum of Malfoy's, if this is real," he mumbled, "Bet not, though," he whispered, sighing as he looked straight ahead.

"I assure you, Mister Black, that I am in no line at all with the Malfoy's and that this is indeed real," Sabet said; "What happened behind the veil?"

Sirius shook his head, a smirk on his face like that as if was watching a sick, horrible act play out that he hated but couldn't prevent it and so had to watch on.

"Hell happened, that's what," Sirius muttered; "Nightmares... all of your worst fears... they happened to you... You were stuck in there, there wasn't a way out..." he finished with a shudder.

"Sirius, this is the real world," Sabet said.

Sirius looked at him with a look of morose scrutiny; "What would you know?" he asked darkly; "You're just one more apparition..."

"I will prove to you, then," Sabet said, walking over to the side of the bed. As he did, a dagger manifested in his hand, the hand he held behind his back. Steadily, he brought it around, Sirius's eyes growing wide with realization.

"What the hell—?" he tried to say, but was silenced when Sabet took his hand by the palm, bending it back to reveal his wrist. He gasped as the blade was drawn vertically; a small cut no more than two inches. But the pain instantly set in, but no matter how hard Sirius tried in his weakened state, he could not break free of Sabet's grasp. And the vampire just stood there, looking at Sirius's pained, angry darkened eyes staring up at him. Sabet set the dagger on the nightstand, slowly.

"Did you feel this pain before?" Sabet asked calmly; "Did you?"

"Of course I did!" Sirius ground out, teeth clinching as he hissed from the pain, not willing to let a scream escape him mouth; "How could you, you bastard—!"

"Did it feel like _this_, like you were surely going _to die_?" Sabet asked, his tone become louder and stronger; "Did it feel as if you would truly _see_ Hell, be rejected from the very _gates _of_ Heaven_? Did your blood flow at such a pace as this, like velvet water? Did it seem so red as _this_? Were your wounds long-lasting _physically_? Did you harbor any scars?"

Sirius only looked at him, his gaze softening with realization, his look as if he'd been slapped in the face. Gently, Sabet took Sirius's hand and wrist in his hands, and nodded. Sirius closed his eyes and laid his head back as he suddenly felt cold, like he had been thrown into icy water. But he did not shudder, he only opened his eyes when the feeling lifted and looked at Sabet. Sabet was looking at him knowingly, though the wisdom spoke of uncounted years of hardship and experience. Sirius looked down at his wrist, to find it healed, as if the knife had never been drawn again his skin.

"What are you?" Sirius asked, stunned as he flexed his hand, to ensure that nothing was broken. He stared at it, as if transfixed, looking up when Sabet sat down in the chair.

"The same as you," Sabet said; "A man condemned for who I am, what I have become."

"You're some convict?!" Sirius asked, eyes widening with sudden fear.

"No," Sabet said evenly; "I'm what the _Ministry_ of yours considers as a threat. A _possible creature capable of destroying a civilization that took thousands of years to get where it is today_," he added with clear disdain for the Ministry.

"So... you're a dark creature," Sirius said flatly, summing it up.

"No, to be dark is to be tainted with evil intent, malicious endeavors and the like," Sabet said; "I'm merely a man who embraced my inheritance. I was a wizard."

"Ah_, was_," Sirius quipped, and Sabet chuckled.

"And then, I turned sixteen," Sabet said; "and I became a vampire."

Silence reigned then. Sirius looked at Sabet, up and down, assessing him. The man looked completely normal, the rumors and stories he'd heard about vampires were that they were despicable creatures with giant harpy wings and spider fangs and the feasted on wayward souls. This man was just that, a man.

"Ah, silly folklore have you confused?" Sabet asked, smirking; "About vampires being _winged demons_, no doubt," he mused as he rose, walking languidly to stand by the windows and watch the courtyard.

"Uh... yeah," Sirius said; "Did you...?"

"Read your mind?" Sabet finished, turning to look at the wizard with a wry grin; "No, but that is always the common occurrence, is it not?" he turned back down to the window; "Can you rise, Mister Black?" he asked in a curious, but dull, drawl.

"Legs are stiff, sorry," Sirius said, "Why?"

Sabet shook his head, back turned to Sirius; "There are currently thirty children of the wizarding race here, all condemned by their own," he looked at Sirius, "For story book monsters, we are forgiving, aren't we? More so than the others," he paused; "You know Harry Potter, I'm safe to assume?"

"Yes, I do," Sirius said, suddenly on the defense; "why?"

"The boy is guilty," Sabet said; "Well, young man, I should say. He's been through quite a lot, more so than I bargained..."

"What are you getting at?" Sirius all but growled, sitting up fully.

"He thinks he's done so much harm, when really he's paving the way for us," Sabet mused, unaware or ignoring Sirius; "He thinks you '_died_' because of him, his foolishness. That all his pain, he deserved, and that everything he receives is just and fair. Do you know, he was raped, by his own flash and blood? And Albus did _nothing_ to stop the beatings..." he finished with a solemn sigh.

"How do you know all of this?!?!?!" Sirius roared, angered.

Sabet silently turned to him, face void of emotion for a moment before he replied calmly; "Because Harry is also a vampire."

Sirius shook his head, holding it in his hands, mumbling "No, not him," over and over like a morose mantra. Sabet took pity on the man, and walked over to the bed to sit on the edge. Sirius looked up at him; "You must be lying," he said, "You _have_ to be."

"I do not lie, Mister Black," Sabet said; "I must admit it has caused a change in Harry. He's not the same."

"I should have been there for him," Sirius mumbled, covering his eyes in shame; "I should have..."

"You cannot stop the cards from being drawn, Fate holds the deck, always has, forever will," Sabet said; "You couldn't help what happened, and all you can say is that you did try your best."

"I was on the run! I couldn't do much, if not anything at all!" Sirius suddenly exploded, angry regret and ignominy lacing through his tone like fire to dry grassland.

Sabet did not flinch, and was silent so that the peace with the quiet would come; "Of course, could you help being found guilty for a crime you did not commit?"

Sirius looked at him; "How would you know?" he asked quietly, disbelieving; "How...?"

"This castle is not cut off from the world, Mister Black, though I rarely leave I have friends everywhere," Sabet said; "Many at the Ministry come here for care and comfort, when the world's beatings become too hard to bear alone..."

"You sound as if this is a place for the damned," Sirius muttered sarcastically.

"In a way, it is exactly that, Mister Black," Sabet said; "You are welcome to stay here as long as you like, as well. Would you wish for me to contact someone you know? Harry perhaps?"

Sirius was silent at that, looking down; "No," he said finally; "Not... not yet. I... I wish to see... no, Harry should come, but..."

"You are allowed more than one guest, Mister Black, so long as they are trustworthy," Sabet said.

Sirius nodded, and after a moment of thought he said; "If you could, contact Harry Potter, and a Remus Lupin. I wish to see them... badly," he added with a sad sigh.

"I will do so immediately, though the ravens may take a while," Sabet said; "The journey from here to Scotland is a long one, you know," he rose from the bed, but stopped when Sirius asked.

"Ravens?"

"Yes," he said; "We cannot trust, nor communicate, with owls. All owls are monitored by the Ministry, a secret tidbit one of my acquaintances supplied me with. A raven flying through the air is nothing, and the parchments are charmed to be visible only to the sender. Besides," he added with an arrogant smirk; "Ravens are far more intelligent than some owl."

Sirius smirked slightly, nodding. Sabet nodded as well; "Rest, Mister Black, I will send Evan to check on you."

"Was that the kid in here before?" Sirius asked.

Sabet nodded; "Try to not be so brusque with him. He is a type four lycanthropy and a mute at that. But he will help in any way you need. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Sirius said quietly, but he thought, _I'm just reminded of him..._

Again Sabet nodded, and he exited the room. Sirius then lay back, and sighed. He looked over to the window, but a reflection caught in his eye and he looked down. He saw Sabet had left the dagger, blade still red at the edge with his blood as a stark reminder that he had finally been rescued from the Veil. Sighing again, Sirius closed his eyes, and eventually fell to slumber's powerful welcome.

* * *

After getting ready, both Harry and Draco walked out of their chambers, side by side, and entered the Common Room. The few people there turned their heads to stare at the pair, and while Harry pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, Draco gave the other Slytherins a patented glare that made heads turn away.

Harry rolled his eyes at the blonde, and Draco merely shrugged. They cut through the sitting area, and they exited and began making their way through the surface. Harry looked down at the badge on his robes. Now green and silver with a green serpent... no more lion. The rims of his robes were also a dark green, nearly black, and he found that the black fabric was laced with fine silver strands of silk. He felt oddly natural, things were finally as they were meant to be.

In companionable silence the walked, and Draco slowly snaked his fingers though Harry's. Harry looked at him and smiled slightly, feeling the gentle squeeze Draco gave. Harry did as well, removing his hand to wrap around Draco's waist. He turned the blonde and gently pressed him against the nearest wall.

"Ooh, what's brought this on?" Draco asked, smirking.

"You did," Harry said, kissing his lover, the hands of both roaming. After a heated session, they both broke away, air becoming needed greatly.

"So, any idea how we should enter the Great Hall?" Draco asked quietly as he buried his face into Harry's neck, planting soft kisses along his jaw. Harry closed his eyes and hummed a groan, kissing Draco again.

"I have a plan, phase one and a half, really," Harry said; "I'm going to prove to Dumbledore that his reign is officially over. By finally revealing our relationship, he'll get such a kick in the arse it'll come through his pompous face."

Draco chuckled, "Such articulation," he chided, "But _do_ tell..."

Harry smiled, stepping back to pull a small pouch from his inner robe pockets. Draco eyed it, then him, and Harry smirked; "I duplicated the DA Galleon, then crushed it;" he explained; "while you were visiting your mother over holiday. Anyway, I plan on going up to the Owlery, and sending one of the school's owls to drop it off in front of Weasley and Granger. They'll think I destroyed my galleon, so they'll assume that DA meeting swill be safe to attend. What they don't know is that when they do issue a Galleon Call, we'll know," he finished proudly.

"Well, I must concede, Mister potter, a highly Slytherin action indeed," Draco commended; "come, we'll jet up to the owlery, and while the owl comes in we'll walk in."

"About that," Harry added; "Any ideas on how we could shock them the most?"

At this, Draco smirked cunningly, and leaned forward to whisper into Harry's ear...

* * *

The Great Hall was alive with chatter, the student masses talking excitedly over their breakfast. The teachers were all silent or conversing, Flitwick and McGonagall conversing with Remus. The werewolf found it odd that McGonagall had sought him out instead of going after Harry immediately the night before, but she had said she had a feeling that it had to do wit the Order. Remus was wary of her, a fact she noticed, and she understood that his trust in her would be hard to gain. Flitwick, ever the optimist and rationalist, had sought Remus out as well. All three were being watched by the headmaster from the corner of his eye, though no remark or notion was made that he noticed. Yet Remus knew the false hope-twinkling eyes rested primarily on him, though not directly and definitely not obviously.

Across the Hall, Hermione and Ron were still under pressure from the fellow Gryffindors, Seamus and Dean especially. Ginny and Neville remained relatively quite, though the youngest Weasley was having a hard time controlling herself from slapping the couple away. Others, too, were curious, and so a certain section of the table was crowded.

"Hermione, where is he, did you every try to talk to him?" Seamus asked strongly, anger in his soft hazel/green eyes.

"Dumbledore told us not to disrupt anything that could be happening!" Hermione persisted; "I haven't spoken to him since we tried to visit! Please, that is all I can say!"

"You idiots, if you knew everything that was happening then why didn't you intervene?!" Dean quipped angrily; "With Harry in the den of snakes, and not to mention off our Quidditch Team, _Ron_, we stand a chance at losing him!!!"

"We just need to sort this out at the DA meeting tonight," Hermione said calmly.

"Will you send out a Galleon Call?" Ginny asked.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, pausing as Ron got into an argument with Seamus and Dean; "It all depends on whether or not if it's a safe idea. I mean, Harry still has his Galleon, supposedly, and I'm not up to risking a bunch of Slytherins overrunning us."

"Hermione, perhaps just because Harry's turned to the Slytherins doesn't necessarily mean he's gone dark," Neville commented quietly; "He might just be rebelling... I mean, wouldn't you if you were in his position?" he added quickly at several aghast looks.

Hermione bowed her head, and sighed as she rubbed her temples. She looked up when someone called; "Look, a late owl!" realizing that the caller had been Seamus. The brown barn owl flew down Gryffindor Table, hooting as it dropped a black velvet pouch. It landed in between Ron and Hermione, and everyone was quiet.

Ron looked at Hermione, before picking the pouch up slowly. There was a small parchment attached which Hermione took and unrolled to read...

"_I thought it best that I return this to you, a supposed token of our alliance. Cheers"_

Hermione gasped as two and two were put togethe within her mind; "Ron, don't open it!" she said, but too late. Ron already had the satchel and after examining it, he slowly pulled at the tie.

There was a loud scream, like that from a rocket, and gold dust went everywhere, showering down on everyone. Some fragments were large enough to see that the dust was actually remnants of the DA Galleon. Hermione coughed as she inhaled the fine dust, falling back across the bench as she grasped at her chest. She felt Ron hold on to her, rubbing her back and casting a calming spell. Her coughing soon subsided, and she sat up. Looking around, she saw that many had thrown themselves back at all sides, into the tables of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

"_Bloody_** _hell_**," Dean muttered in awe, watching with wide eyes as the last of the fine gold dust began to gather again.

The dust and fragments gathered above the satchel, reforming into the DA Galleon. But there was a difference to it. It held no markings of a Galleon, but instead held writing that slowly seemed to press against the surface before falling back for more lettering. Seamus, who had dove under the table, rose, and looked at it nervously.

"_Our time is spent, our trust is gone_," he whispered as he read, though his voice seemed to be heard throughout the Hall; "_I thought wrong... you lied to me. You showed me betrayal... I learned from the pain... now suffer your repercussions... there is no vindication_..."

Seamus dove back under the table as the DA Galleon disintegrated, the ashes smoldering on the small satchel. For a moment, all was quiet, until there was a cough. All eyes turned to see Harry standing in the doorway, Draco beside him. Both had unreadable faces, though Harry's eyes were obvious of his blazing emotions.

"You thought you would get away without a final statement form me?" was all he said, more proclamation that question; "Well, allow me to say, may your year be _atypical_;" He then turned to Draco, offering his hand. Draco smirked and took it, and then the two walked over to the Slytherin table, amidst all of the gasps. When they reached it, Draco kissed him quickly, both not wanting to be written up for Public Displays of Affection by making out. They sat down, smirks of raw diffiance and arrogance gracing their faces.

The Hall erupted then, in loud whispers and conversations and the like.

"Wonderful show, you two," Pansy said as she piled food onto Harry and Draco's plates.

"Er... thank-you?" Harry asked, watching as she did so.

Pansy stared at him, gazing at his unsure look; "Well, you're all skin and bone, Potter, what did you expect me to do? I won't be seen hanging around some lanky vagabond," she finished snobbishly as she sat back across the table in her own seat, beside Blaise.

"You've become so _disgustingly motherly_ as of late, you know that?" Blaise asked, and he chuckled as pansy punched him in the shoulder playfully.

"Oh, you," she said, mock-glaring at him.

/They will be interesting to be around/ Harry projected as he began to eat.

/Don't we know it/ Draco replied in the same fashion, doing the same. /Honestly, have you know manners?/ he thought as he watched Harry tuck in.

/No/ Harry replied, but he did straighten up and eat a tad slower after that.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: well, there you all go! Yay, Sirius is back!!! Next chapter will be good. But I'll be gone for a while so please don't be mad if the story doesn't get updated for a while!!!! 


	20. Anarchy&Nightmares

**A/N:** First off, I want to thank everyone for reviewing!

And I apologize over and over for the delay. My computer crashed --the damn thing— and then I tried uploading this once already and it didn't work. but here is chapter 20 if this second try works out!!!

No one's reviewed my **INUYASHA** story... I'm hurt; I thought it would be good... someone out there please read & review it...

_Disclaimer: Nothing mine_

**------20------**

Harry and Draco walked together to their first class, with Blaise and Pansy behind them. Crabbe and Goyle walked behind them, and the six were given room in the halls. The crowds parted, and Harry heard their whispers. But, unlike dreading it as he once did, Harry relished in the untold glory. He now had power to sway the very fabrics of the entire school system, the way of gossip was a powerful sledge hammer perfected by his will for his bidding.

To Harry's slight surprise, they arrived to their first class, Ancient Runes, unbothered. Draco and Harry took the farthest back table, settling down in the soft armchairs. Harry sighed and leaned back, gazing around the classroom. It was a Gryffindor Slytherin combination, go figure. Harry knew that Dumbledore planned this unity of Houses on purpose. But, rather than destroy the delicate balance, he planned on using it for his advantage. House Unity was a good thing, he wagered, for the upcoming war.

He still hated Voldemort, with a passion the likes of Hell would only dare to reckon with. At the thought of the snake-like man, Harry's fist clenched under the desk, his brow furrowing as he glared out the window.

Draco, who had been talking with Blaise and Pansy, felt a quick pang of hate from his bonded, and looked over quickly. "Harry?" he asked; "What's—?"

"Nothing, Draco," Harry said, his voice distant as his eyes flashed with hardened hate and then returned to their normal sated emerald. He looked at the blonde; "Only thinking."

"Well, about planning," Blaise continued; "Harry, believe this concerns you as well. Anyway, this DA organization... what does 'DA' stand for?"

Harry snickered as the answer came to him; "Dumbledore's Army," he replied with a smirk and for a moment, Blaise and Pansy both wore blank expressions. Then they burst out laughing, Draco joining in as Harry chuckled quietly.

"Oh the idiots!" Blaise said through his mirth; "That is too grand an amusement! Oh, and to think you ran it, Harry! Imagine, you... you..." his amusement was gone as realization hit. Harry's gaze had hardened yet again.

"I am still in charge of that group," he said calmly; "They think I've turned my back on it all," he said quietly, looking down collectively; "I've only realized the faults, I want to make things better;" he said, looking back up. There was a glint to his eye the others had not seen before, but they had no complaints; "And it will make us all greater than ever."

Pansy rubbed her hands together; "Wonderful, I'm ready to turn Dumblefuck's world upside down!"

Draco was about to comment, when their teacher shushed them and bought them all to face the class. Sighing in frustration, he decided to keep his comments until later.

* * *

The first half of the day went by without a hitch, and this was making Harry and Draco on edge. Normally there would be someone to intervene within the situation and try to stop it, but there had yet to be such a person. Lunch came and the quartet entered, the Hall again hushing dramatically at the entrance. Harry ignored it and walked straight to the Gryffindor Table. Confused, Draco, Pansy, and Blaise stood at the doors, watching on. Draco would wait; Harry could stand on his own. 

Harry walked over, eyes indifferent as they bored into a familiar set of blue and another of brown. His former friends stood as he approached, and in his calmest voice he could muster, he said; "Perhaps we could talk out in the hall, I have a few things I'd like to sort out."

Hermione and Ron, surprised, looked at one another; "Not alone," Hermione said finally; "We get to bring whomever we want."

"No one outside friends," Harry said, "What we will discuss is not for untrustworthy ears."

"Seamus, Dean, Ginny, and Neville," Ron said, the four looking at each other before slowly rising; "That's all. You can bring your minions, as well."

"They're friends of mine_, Weasley_, I'd rather you refer to them as such," Harry all but snapped; "Come on, we're meeting in the library."

With that he turned on his heel and walked away, glancing back as he caught Ron whispering quickly to Hermione. Dean and Seamus were whispering fiercely as well. But they were the first to actually follow Harry.

Harry walked back over to Draco and the others; "Harry, what the hell?!" Draco whispered fiercely, and Harry smirked.

"We have an hour to put it into action," he whispered back calmly, looking back as the six Gryffindors walked up. Harry then looked at the Staff table, inwardly smirking with triumph at the look on his professor's faces. Harry then turned to his Slytherins, and nodded, before walking through the doors and towards the Library. Draco followed him, soon gaining at his side, and then Ron and Hermione went out. For a moment, the remaining Gryffindors and Slytherins stared at each other, before walking out separately in their Houses, after the others.

* * *

_Harry, what on earth are you planning?_ Draco projected as they walked in silence. 

_Anarchy_, Harry replied the same way, looking at his bonded with a smirk.

_How so?_

_We'll feed Weasley and Granger lies, they'll be sure to report back to Dumbledore. Ginny and Neville, we may obliviate. But Seamus and Dean..._

_Are you suggesting that we _trust_ them?_

_Not yet, but they're both harboring anger and frustration towards Weasley and Granger. They were also good friends of mine who never betrayed me._

... _They aren't wrapped up in the Order then, I take it?_

Harry shook his head; "No," he said aloud; "They aren't. That's why we have to fix what's been done wrong... to avoid more people risking their lives..."

"Ever the Gryffindor, even in shades of silver and green," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"It's good for us if the DA falls," Harry mumbled, looking back as he saw Ron and Hermione catching up wit them; "Or at least if we take it with a new name," he whispered to Draco; "Let's not talk until we get to the library."

Draco nodded; "You're quite a shocker, Harry," he said anyway, heedless of Harry's request; "I would never have thought this from you before."

"Yes well, so you've said yourself, Draco, 'masks don't just hide the face'," Harry said, smirking slightly.

Draco smirked as well; "Well, I'm not a stupid buffoon. Anyone would know that. Well, almost anyone. Perhaps not the Weasel."

They entered the library, taking to the left and finding a private room. Draco stood outside the door as Harry went in to check it. Harry scanned the walls, checked the portraits and stunned all flying books, then walked back out. Ron and Hermione were walking up, Seamus and Dean following with the other behind them.

"What's this about?" Ron asked bluntly, crossing his arms.

"A meeting," Draco said snidely; "Perhaps that concept is too complicated, Weasel? Would you mind if I enunciate better?"

Before Ron could retort, Hermione stopped him and said; "If this is a meeting then we should carry this out in a fashion _befitting_ its importance. We should all agree to respect one another _enough_ to where no one ends up in the hospital wing."

All were silent at this, and Harry sighed; "Of course," he said plainly; "It's only _befitting._ Come on, I don't think anyone wants to miss their classes."

He and Draco entered the private room. It was like a small library; couches and chairs around a fire with desks and bookshelves that lined the walls. Draco sat down on a two-seat sofa, Harry sitting by his side. Hermione and Ron sat opposite him, Dean, Seamus and Ginny sat on the couch, Neville took a chair, and Pansy brought two more over. After closing the door, Blaise joined them.

"I'll be frank in why I confronted you," Harry said, eyes directed to Hermione; "I know you six are planning on resurrecting the DA once more for this year.

"Understandable that you would, with the War and all," Blaise said; "But really, '_Dumbledore's Army'_?"

"How _clichéd_," Pansy mused as she rolled her eyes, leaning her chin in her palm, elbow supporting it.

"What's this about, Harry?" Hermione asked, ignoring the Slytherins completely as she kept her eyes locked with Harry's.

"I want to propose a truce," Harry said; "Know that I still consider you a traitorous woman, as I consider you a disloyal coward, Weasley," he added; "But I believe there are far bigger issues than out pasts. I wish to continue aiding the D.A., but I think the name deserves to be changed."

Hermione nodded; "Is that all?" she asked, as if disappointed.

"What?!" Ron exclaimed; "Hermione, you've got to be joking!" he insisted, looking at her; "After everything's that's happened—"

"If Harry is capable of viewing this from a mature perspective, then so will we," Hermione said simply, holding her chin high for a moment.

"Then why did he bring them along if it was just to discuss the D.A.'s name?" Ron asked, looking around, eyes finally landing on Harry.

Harry leaned back in his seat, allowing Draco the floor. "Well _Weasel_, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws aren't the only ones who wish to band together and stop the Dark Lord," he said flatly; "Basically, I, as well as Blaise, Pansy, and several other Slytherins, wish to be on the right side when hell breaks through the ground;" he paused; "I must agree with Harry on this, Granger, we are facing things of more importance than our turbulent pasts. Though working along side of you will be nothing less than unpleasant," he added, glaring at Weasley.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, then she nodded; "And I stand on the same ground."

"Glad there's a little evenness," Harry said with a hint of bitterness; "The Meetings will still be on Tuesdays every two weeks, depending on everything around us, that is."

As Draco sat back down, Seamus stood; "What's gotten into ya, Harry?" he asked.

Harry looked at him, blinking slowly; "What do you think?" he asked, looking at Hermione and Ron as he replied dead-pan; "My destiny showed itself."

Seamus nodded; "With you all the way, mate," he said, "Still haven't forgotten everything you've done."

"Neither have I," Dean said, and Ginny nodded. Neville looked up for a moment, and then he nodded as he looked back down.

"So this brings us to the final thing," Harry said, "I think that you six would be good for this operation because I believe that the ten of us combined are suitable for the rolls as instructors for the unnamed alliance."

"We should call it that," Pansy said, "After all; an organization with no name cannot be traced easily, can it?"

"So there will be no name to this?" Hermione quipped testily.

"I like the idea," Dean said, "Because then we'll be protected from snitches."

"And what makes you all think that they'll just betray us?" Ron suddenly exclaimed, accusations directed to the Slytherins.

"Because we are firm in our loyalty," Blaise said; "We wouldn't betray our own unless it was necessary."

"How very _un-Slytherin_," Ginny said smugly, crossing her arms.

"You are one to talk, _Weasliette_," Draco snapped suddenly; "I'd be ashamed, and I've betrayed people countless times in my past. But nothing I've ever done can surmount to what _you've_ accomplished," he finished with a calm brutality that left Ginny looking down with guilt and shame.

Harry slipped his hand over and held to Draco's, and they shared a quick bonded emotion of gratefulness; "But as I said before," Harry stated; "There is more to it than our pasts."

"But don't expect us to start anew," Draco finished; "Can't forgive anything, now can we?"

"Then there is no point in merging," Hermione said, rising; "I enjoyed the talk, Harry, it's good to see you're not completely lost."

"You speak as if it's a bad thing," Harry said, "Snape and Sirius worked together, though they hated each other with a passion far greater than that of loathing. See yourself from Sirius' point, if you must, but understand that if you walk away now there is no chance for the unnamed alliance. At least, it will not be as stable."

Hermione stopped on her way out, turning slowly to stare at her former friend in disbelief; "Are you blackmailing me—_us_?" she asked, shock apparent in her tone.

Again, Harry blinked slowly, a small smirk playing on his lips; "No, never," he said sarcastically. He rose, hand slipping from Draco's as he did. He walked up to Hermione, soon standing at her side; "I plan on winning this war, Granger," he whispered, o quietly only she and another caught it; "And, thanks to Destiny, I must do so any way possible." He stepped away then, walking over and opening the door; "The first meeting will be this coming Tuesday. Spread the word on your end, we will on ours."

Hermione's eyes narrowed with anger as she huffed and walked out, Ron soon following, Ginny and Neville left, and Seamus and Dean stayed behind.

"Harry," Dean said; "If they've done anything—"

"Well it's obvious they've done something, Dean," Seamus interjected with a dramatic roll of his eyes; "Honestly, it's why they did it what bothers me..."

"—just let me know," Dean continued, glancing at Seamus; "I can kinda grasp what's going on and what's gonna happen, and believe me I'm thankful you still trust me an' Shay. But if Ron's ever done anything, or Hermione, friends or not we'll make their lives a living hell."

Harry's eyes softened at the loyalty and conviction in Dean's words; "Thanks, Dean," he said, smirking, thought it was close to a smile; "I always knew I could count on you."

"Yeah well, what are friends for, eh?" Dean said, then he held his hand out to Seamus; "Come on, Shay, we've still got an hour 'til our next class."

At this, Seamus grinned mischievously; "See you, all," he said quickly before taking his lover's hand and dragging Dean off.

Draco couldn't help but let a laugh escape him at the antics of the Irishman. He had to admit that it was obvious who was more feminine, Seamus. Draco walked over to Harry, and the two stood silent together. Blaise and Pansy, taking a hint at the silence, left themselves, quietly conversing as they departed. Harry even had a hard time hearing them, but he didn't have to think long before Draco had captured his lips in a kiss. Harry found himself pressed against the door.

"Gods I want you so badly when you do that," Draco whispered as he trailed kisses down Harry's jaw and neck. Harry groaned.

"Mmm let's do this elsewhere," he mumbled; "Too risky here-_mph_..." he was cut off as Draco kissed him again.

"Fine, but I can't get far."

They successfully made it out of the library, glad to find the halls empty. The newly added free period was a definite bonus. Taking Harry's hand Draco led them outside, going down a shaded path bordering the Forbidden Forest. They came out behind the Quidditch stands, and Harry turned Draco and began kissing him. Both fell to he ground, engrossed in each other as the sun shown over them.

A familiar and distant caw brought Harry back to reality. He looked up from Draco's chest, taking his hands from the blonde's shirt as he sat back on his knees and looked up. Draco sat up on his elbows, sighing as he exhaled. He looked up as well, squinting from the sun. The caw rang through the air again, cutting through like a scream. Harry pulled his shirt over his one shoulder, smiling as he saw a proverbial dark thing flying towards them.

"Oswarae," Harry sighed, glad that his raven had been fine at Sabet's Castle.

The raven cawed as he saw his master and his masters mate, mildly perturbed at what they had been doing. Cawing happily he landed, hopping over to Harry to nuzzle his hand. Harry allowed the bird his hand as a perch, and noticed her had a parchment around his leg.

/_master_/ Oswarae projected contently, nuzzling into Harry's long hair.

Harry smiled, stroking the bird. _/Your flight was fine?/_ he asked.

The raven nodded, then lifted up his laden leg and shook it impatiently. Chuckling, Harry sat back and took the parchment, allowing Draco to sit up. Draco watched as Harry scanned the invisible paper, and to the blonde's surprise it began to manifest before him. One bonus of the bonding, he wagered. But Harry's eyes grew wide with surprise, and he looked at Draco when he'd finished.

"What?" Draco asked, now a little concerned at Harry's silence.

Harry handed him the parchment, getting up and buttoning his shirt. Eyeing him for a moment, Draco then took the letter and began reading it.

_Dear Harry,_

_I do hope you are doing well with your transition, and that no one is getting to nosy about the situation. I also hope that your "plans" fall into place, and that nothing goes awry._

_But to more important matters. As of yesterday, a man by the name of Sirius Black fell through an artifact I presently own, and mentioned your name, along with that of Remus Lupin. Upon further discussion it was revealed that Mister Black is your Godfather, and a very good friend of Remus Lupin. He has requested that both of you come to him. _

_I have him currently staying in the royal chambers at the estate, and you may come at any time you feel is best. If the ability to leave your school at the present time is impossible, I will try to sort things out myself. Do tell me though, if you are planning to come._

_I and Sirius await your reply and we both hope that everything is well. _

_Sincerely,_

_Sabet_

"Quite the eloquent man, isn't he?" Draco mused as he looked up; "I never knew that Black was your godfather."

"Yes well, Life _is _full of surprises," Harry said, helping Draco up; "I need to send a reply now."

"Go on, I'll be fine," Draco said; "This is important."

Harry smiled, planting a soft kiss on Draco's temple; "Love you!" he said as he rushed off. Draco noticed how Harry's wings threatened to show, and his feet barely touched the ground. He would take flight before rounding around the pitch, and this made Draco smirk.

Draco then turned, and noticed the raven who had a look of clear petulance in his eyes. Draco glared. /What?/ he projected snidely.

Silently, Oswarae took flight, and as he passed Draco, he again bit at his ear. Cursing aloud, the blond swung at the bird, but missed as the raven dodged his fist. Draco held his ear, drawing his hand back and gasping with outrage when he saw them tainted red with his blood.

"Damn bird!" he shouted, growling as he chased after the raven, who was cawing hysterically as he flew away.

* * *

Harry ran through the halls, vaguely hearing the secondary bell. He didn't care though; he had no intensions of attending class now, he had too much to do. He reached the fourth floor, and banged on the door with his fist, knowing there was a class in progress. He stepped back as Remus opened the door, chiding his class. He had a large gecko in his left hand, the creature's tail trailing up his arm. But he held a look of concern as he saw how rushed Harry appeared. 

"Harry, what's the matter?" he asked as he stepped out of the room, closing the door securely behind him.

"Sabet found Sirius!" Harry said hastily, holding up the parchment for Remus to read; "He fell through something at Sabet's home, and now Sabet's sent word that he wants us!"

Remus took the parchment, eyes widening as he reread the eloquent handwriting again and again. Finally, he looked at Harry; "We'll leave immediately," Remus said; "I'll speak with Dumbledore as soon as the class has ended—"

"But Remus, Sirius—!"

"Harry, I too want to see Sirius, very badly, in fact, but we must all consider that no one can know that he is alive and where he is at the moment. I will persuade Dumbledore and hopefully we will leave by the morning, if not after dinner."

Harry swallowed his frustration and nodded; "Fine," he said; "But please, make it as soon as possible."

"Harry, I'll do my best, I promise," Remus said, voice wavering for a moment as he stepped back to open the door. The large gecko he was holding emitted a small chirp, a mere distraction; "But please, no one must know of this, understood?"

"Yes," Harry said; "Well, Draco knows, but he was there when Oswarae came."

Remus nodded; "I advise that you get to class now, before you're too late," he said, "Can't risk a detention this early, can we?"

Harry smirked; "I'm afraid Trelawney would be too afraid to talk to me, let alone give me a detention."

"Oh, well that would be true," Remus said with a small laugh before he entered the classroom and closed the door.

Harry sighed, leaning against the wall. He stared at the high ceilings for a moment, before finally walking back to get his book bag.

* * *

A gunshot rang through the air, and Morgan found herself falling from the bridge. She screamed as she did, landing harshly on the cobblestones below. She groaned and turned her head to the side, seeing boots land by her silently through her hooded eyes. Amos ran to her, calling her name and dodging a second bullet. Bending down, he picked her up, and ran with her in his arms under the bridge. A gunshot rang otu again, ricocheting from the cobblestones and onward, creating a racket. Amos set Morgan up on her feet, and they ran from under the bridge and on down the road, bullets at their heels. 

"Amos, oh gods what were we thinking?!" Morgan asked as the two ran, Amos with his arm over her back and shoulder, ushering her.

"We were trying to gain support, Morgan, what else could we have done?" Amos asked, gritting his teeth as a bullet managed to graze his ankle. They were being shot at by the rooftops of the townhouses.

"Quickly, run ahead!" Amos suddenly ground out, pushing Morgan away from him and forward; "And don't look back!"

Morgan withheld an unsteady gasp and only nodded, running onward, her boots against the cobblestones, giving her away regardless. As she ran, she heard Amos shouting in French, begging for his countrymen to cease fire. She withheld a sob as she heard more gunshots, Amos' shout, and then, she saw green light reflecting against the wet cobblestones before her. And, again his wishes, she stopped, and turned around, only to shreik in outrage and dismay...

_

* * *

The water's at my knees and it is cold, yet it doesn't bother me. Nothing does, now. The sky is dark still from my recent outburst, the final stone thrown at the target to hit home and win me the game. I laugh out loud, dryly, sarcastically, only once, at the pity and false hope I'd once experienced, and at how I'd relished in the prospect of winning._

_But it somehow seems worthless, the feeling of being the victor. It's the best feeling of accomplishment, they say, It's the best rush of pride and adrenaline, they'll whisper in awe of the thought._

_You will feel complete, they said, You can rest and be at ease._

_But where are they, along these reddened shores of the Ire. Where the battle took place, bodies behind me, around me... the blood in the water. My robes ripped and all but there after it all, my life as well tattered and draped in the fragile balance, air manipulated in the sea breeze. I watch the sun set and I am saddened beyond grief, beyond anger. The sun is red and it bleeds its sorrow on the water, the reflection lapping up to me as I watch it, watching. I blink back salt and I cannot allow myself to cry. There is no point._

_All was lost in what I was supposed to gain, freedom._

_All is gone, for what I was supposed to find._

_Sweet victory, hah, I laugh in your face, laugh! You are no winning trophy, no pleasant smile, no warm contentment in my soul. My soul is restless, grieving, mourning, ripping itself apart in a desperate suicide._

_My love, my love, my love you've gone, left me to lead a realm alone, with no one to guide me in my anger, no one to hold to near at night. We were denied eternity, I see you on the sand, your eyes are closed and you mouth is not slack, set in the firm jaw of your heritage, your past. Your hands fisted and your arms across your chest, what's left of your robes you lie on. Your heart bled, without breaking the flesh, and I could not cry. Again, no tears could come when you fell, no tears would come..._

_And I turn to you, my love, slowly wade through the shallows to walk across the shore to you, salty tears of the sea on my skin and clothing, hands at my sides as my knees connect with the beach and your robes. I stare down at you, Wake up, I ask, Wake up. Be with me, I need you now._

_But you do not hear me, do you? No, you are not here, you are, just not in the way I wish. I wish for things that I could never have, but you were that single one that came true. I asked to be helped, to be saved, to be accompanied, and you came. But now, where are you, my love? Gone from me, away, leave me alone to squander in this tainted glory that I never wanted, never deserved, received without my consent. _

_I cry on your chest, your shirt fisted in my hands, and I let them come. Rivers, flowing representations of my angered grief. I long for you now, you're not there, not a one of you are. I run from you, stumbling back as I choke back the tears and breech the borders of the sea. I continue to escape, the water hits the back of my knees and I continue. So much pain and death and blood, and all to my accountability, the water hits my torso yet its only hope. All the reddened white sand, the waters darkened by fear and evil tainting the stones, the water's to my shoulders. The caress of fate and the final word of destiny, the final scream and the last fall, it's to my chin. The life worth nothing in years, wasted in assumed precautions, it's to my nose, I'm too far now. My feet leave the floor of the sea, the bead of silt and sand and the cold is consuming me._

And along lost causes, fear endowed power, long forgotten uses of the gifts bestowed to the magic folk of old...  
  
Bestowed to you, by blood right and sheer will of doom, gifts sought after, often mourned...

_It echoes in my clouding mind, vision stung and blinded by salt..._

_No more._

- - -

Harry withheld a shout of fear as he shot up in bed, panting with his hand clutching his bare chest. He looked around, vision clearing to take in the room. Harry jumped slightly as he felt a hand on his arm, and he looked down to see Draco looking up at him worriedly. The blonde sat up, and Harry began to crack.

"Draco, oh gods it was bad this time," he said as a single tear fell and he wrapped his arms around the still half-asleep blonde, burying his head in the crook of Draco's neck.

"Harry, easy, it's fine, everything's alright," Draco whispered; "...What happened?"

"You were dead," Harry's muffled, mumbled reply came as Draco wrapped his arms around the raven-haired teen; "Everyone was dead. Blaise, Pansy... _everyone_. It was at a beach... in-n Ireland. Everything was tinted red, the sand, the waters, the sun..." he looked at Draco; "It felt so real, Draco, like I was actually experiencing it. I felt so angry and sad and homicidal and... and you were dead, on the ground... with your eyes closed and your arms crossed..."

"Shh, it was all a dream," Draco said, stroking Harry's bangs. Almost instantly Harry's eyelids became hooded, and they lay down, Harry curled up against Draco like a small child. Every breath was shaky, but slowly, it subsided, and Draco said; "That's all it was. I'm alive; Blaise and Pansy are as well. We're in Scotland and far away from any beach."

"It was so real, though," Harry whispered, idly playing with a ripple in the sheets; "But you're right. I feel so stupid now..."

"Don't be," Draco said; "A dreams a dream, a nightmare is a nightmare. You can't help that, can you? Therefore, if it can't be helped, it can only be accepted and tolerated. Am I right or am I right?"

Harry chuckled wrapping his arms around Draco again and pulling him close. They stayed in silence, both closing their eyes with the shock over, but Draco could have sworn he heard Harry whisper so softly...

"You were so cold..."

And Draco's heart throbbed and went to his lover, his boyfriend. He held Harry closer then, thankful that it had only been a dream. "Just go back to sleep," he whispered; "Tomorrow you'll go see Sirius and for a moment... everything'll be alright..."

And again, Harry chuckled.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: a bad dream AHH and some fluff!!!! RUN AWAY!!!!! Haha anyway ooh Harry and Draco are a couple of scheming little bastards, aren't they? And oh Amos and Morgan are in trouble.... damn myself for leaving you at a cliffhanger. They're somewhere in France, though, but that's all I'll say right now. Give me ten minutes to start running if you want to hunt me down. anyway thank-you for the reviews and I will post as soon as possible!!!!---BR 


	21. Hopes and Woes

**A/N:** First off, I want to thank Elebereth, Dragenphly, Itsuko-chan, PsycoSuicide,illmtl, DemonRogue13, ak-alterego, BlahnessMucho,Hiei's fiancee, Henio41, Morena Evensong, Kamui5, andMistal: The Poisoned One, for reviewing for chapter 20!!!! (where were the rest of you???)

Disclaimer: I OWN JACK SQUAT…. sigh but not Harry Potter. Nope… Damnit.

**------21------**

Remus rushed out of his classroom with his final batch of students, eager as they that the bell had rung. He had kept his excitement and worry concealed as best he could, and as he rushed up the steps to the Headmaster's Office, he couldn't help but thank the gods that he would be given his wish, to see Sirius again.

As Remus came to the entrance hall on the seventh floor, he calmed instantly. He walked up to the stone gargoyle, eyeing its onyx eyes for a moment as he thought. Finally, he said quietly; "_Cherry pie and almonds_." And the statue groaned against its gears as it began to rise. Remus caught the steps and rode them up, head craned back as he stared above. He arrived at the door, mahogany and ancient, and knocked.

"Come in!"

Sighing, Remus opened the door, and walked into the dusty room. "Headmaster," he said upon seeing Dumbledore seated behind his large desk, Fawkes sitting on his perch like the faithful bird he'd always been.

But Dumbledore looked up, and smiled slightly; "Remus," he said; "What brings you up here? Normally you are in the Great Hall by now!"

Remus smiled half-heartedly; "I've come to ask of a favor, Albus," he said; "One regarding Harry."

"Oh?" Dumbledore said, setting his papers down and looking at Remus intently.

Remus nodded; "He confided in me today, and Albus, I believe it would be best if he were to get away," he paused; "Apparently, the pressure of the war and his being the only weapon capable of ending it has taking its toll, as well as his recent loss… I propose I take him out, to the country, just for a day so he can clear his thoughts and focus on what is most important. Whatever he misses I will catch him up on, and I will find a suitable substitute for all of my classes."

Albus was silent as he thought this over, then he said; "You've presented your case quite well, Remus, and for that I commend you. But, Harry is much safer here than anywhere else. What with Lucius Malfoy now free from Azkaban, and the recent appearances of Death Eaters…"

"Sir I can assure you that where I plan on taking Harry is secluded and guarded by wards almost greater than those of Hogwarts," Remus interrupted firmly; "I am looking out for my godson's best interests. I will not have him dying on us. We've already lost him to the Slytherins; do not let me lose him all together."

Again, Dumbledore was silent. Fawkes cooed quietly, and the no longer twinkling eyes glanced up at the phoenix. The old wizard sighed, eyes closing for a moment, before opening back up to gaze at the waiting werewolf, who hid his anxiety well, though he knew him rubbing his hands together was not a wise idea.

"Fine, Remus. You may go. But if you intend to leave tonight I must object. You may leave in the morning, and return the following day."

* * *

Amos couldn't help but swear as the bullet grazed across his shoulder. Holding his hand against it, he held out his hollow wand, and shouted out a curse in Portuguese. To his horror, he saw his pursuer's wand light a vile green, sadistic in intention and respected out of fear and loath. Its wielder, a man of age and regal stature, dressed in robes neither old nor new, a devilish smirk upon his face.

"**_Avada Kadavra_**!" and Amos barely dodged it, falling to the ground. His wand fell from his hand, and he heard it snap and break as he landed on it. Again, Amos swore.

"Damn you, Malfoy, I know it is you beyond that pitiful illusion, it holds no bar to my power!" Amos shouted angrily as he stood, conjuring a hex in his right palm. The green orb, deadly as the last curse, was now rimmed with white fire.

The man laughed, coldly, maniacally, and Amos saw the other two, darkly clad and their faces masked, one holding a revolver. Amos turned to see the one to the left rush, and tackle someone to the ground.

"Morgan!" Amos shouted, and turning he threw the orb, yelling; "**_mate seu espírito_**!!!((1))" as it hurtled through the air.

The figure that brought Morgan to her feet roughly was caught between the shoulders, and he fell, the orb stealing his soul away and maiming his back forever. Morgan stood there, shaking slightly, her hands held as fists at her chest, one hand holding desperately to her pendant that hung around her neck, the small portrait of Saint Jude on silver. Her watery teal eyes, now shining with her anxiety and built-up power, looked at Amos as he rushed to her.

"I told you to run and not look back!!!" he said, standing in front of her. He glared at the old man and the remaining figure.

"I couldn't leave you," Morgan whispered, placing her hand on his back, between he shoulder blades, where she knew there was a tattoo of a large, Celtic cross.

Amos glanced at her, then returned his gaze to the aged man; "What do you have with Muggle weapons, Malfoy?" he asked accusingly; "I thought they were below you."

"You're quite right, vampire," the old man said, and this caused Amos to stiffen, Morgan as well. The female came up to Amos' back, resting her head by her hand as she stared off, even though her ears caught everything.

Amos watched as suddenly, the potion began to wear off. The old man grew and straightened, his grey hair becoming blonde. Soon, the head of the Malfoy Line was standing there, a look of mad, baleful intention in his eyes and the smirk he wore too-proudly on his face.

"But then, some Muggles have nothing to live for," Lucius continued; "I've hired quite a few to aid me. When this is over, I'll obliviate them. You may be starting to feel…differently…"

Amos didn't move, he wouldn't admit it. Lucius chuckled; "It's nearing the Harvest Moon, isn't it, vampire?" he asked, more so stated, and for a moment, he glanced up at the sky.

"You're to be in jail, Malfoy, carrying out your sentence with pride, like a _Malfoy_ should," Amos said; "What do you want? We were merely passing through the city," he caught, out of the corner of his eye, one man steadily beginning to circle around them.

"My Lord wishes that more of your kind was on his side, on _the right_ side," Lucius said steadily, taking a few steps forward; "He believes that your kind would benefit if he were to win. He also knows that you are in line with werewolves and veelas and banshees, and several other creatures," he paused; "My Lord expresses his desire that you side with him… before it is too late," he added quietly.

"Nay," Amos nearly spat; "I speak for my race when I say that I would never join you. Your 'Lord' brings not but death, destruction, and a small case of insanity. I hope you burn in hell, all of you."

Morgan looked around, lifting her head. She stepped back, and turned around. She took Amos' hand, and he looked back when she projected _there are ten who just Aparated here. Amos, we're heavily outnumbered._

Amos looked back at Lucius, who was now smirking, his gaze wavering. Amos followed it, realizing he was staring at the wound on Amos' shoulder. Amos stared as he realized that it was still bleeding. The reflection of silver in his blood dazzled in the vampires eyes, but he cringed when he saw that crimson and silver were mingling slowly with a blue, dark to almost pass as black.

"Hellfire," Amos swore, glaring at Lucius; "Damn you," he hissed, before holding out his free hand and shouting, "**_Apodreça a Medula _**((2))!!!!"

Lucius laughed as he easily stepped out of the path, but he looked back in horror as he heard a scream and gurgle of horror. The spell had traveled into the shadows, and struck a death eater. The victim stumbled out, falling to the ground. He flopped over, still gurgling, as a reddish-black substance came from his mouth, ears, nose and eyes. He flipped back over in an effort to stop the curse, but died then and there. Lucius stared at the macabre scene of death, and then looked back at Amos. The vampire now held his hand over his wound, glaring and breathing raggedly. The female was no where to be seen.

"You will die for that," Lucius snarled, holding his wand out abruptly; "**AVADA KEDAVRA**!!!"

Amos closed his eyes, the green curse jetted towards him, glowing against the cobblestones and puddles. But then there was something in front of him and a final exhale as a hooded figure slumped and fell to the ground. Amos opened his eyes, feeling hands on his shoulders and hair by his cheek. Morgan was knelt behind him, eyes staring ahead, though not on Malfoy, or on anything. She had levitated and thrown a man in the way of the spell, to protect him. Her hand rested over his, which covered the wound, and as the road filled with more people, and many curses were fired, Amos felt time slow, the air chilled around them as Morgan sang in a whisper out her incantation that would rescue them from this…

"_Tornamo-nos um com o ar_

_Tornamo-nos um com o céu_

_Tornamo-nos um com a lua_

_Durante este momento nós morreremos_

_Durante este momento nós viraremos_

_Em espíritos de etheral_

_Durante este momento nos comprará vida_

_Como partimos e vamos aonde os nossos Corações orçam-nos…_" ((3))

Amos bowed his head as she whispered, closing his eyes as they became a glowing statue, together. Morgan embraced him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck, her head beside his, her voice sweet salvation in his ear.

And they disappeared, like mist on the wind, a hazy apparition.

* * *

Back lot behind St. Mungo's was dark and destitute, Muggle businesses nearby having used it to park their cars and to dump their garbage. Faust grimaced at the stank odor, and Adam held his breath to his best ability.

"We need to get inside," Adam whispered, walking up to the wall and placing his hand on it. Slowly, his eyes graced upward, and he looked at the fourth floor window; "There," he said, pointing; "That's the room we need to watch."

"Why would Sabet want us to do this?" Faust asked as he joined Adam, both vampires craning their heads back to view the window.

"Because whoever's in there will be in danger soon, he says," Adam explained; "Can't say it's a bad thing, Sabet said that the person was one of our own… respectably of course."

"Well, you get in there, I'll check the perimeter;" Faust said, beginning to walk away.

"What?! Are you nuts? What if I got caught?"

"You don't have to appear as human, Adam. You think I'm roaming the streets like this?" Faust asked, turning to his companion. Already his skin was beginning to darken, he was changing then and there before Adam's eyes.

Adam nodded, and as he thought the incantation, his back arched and he cringed with the pain of shifting bones and. Soon he was a black raven, and he cawed as he flapped his wings. Looking around and getting accustomed to his vision, Adam saw a black hound a few yards away, bluish-grey eyes staring back at him. Faust too, had changed. Both nodded, and as Adam took flight Faust trotted off.

Adam flew up to the window sill, and when he landed, he hopped to the window and peered in. the room was dark, vacant except for one person who was lying in the bed, asleep. Adam pecked at the window, but there was no movement on the other side. Annoyed, he went to the clasp, and began pecking at it. The window rose up, making a slight crashing noise as it hit the wood frame at the top, and Adam flew in silent as a wind. He landed on the back of a waiting chair by the bed, and stared at the bed's occupant.

Fine blonde hair long and unkempt was splayed against the pillow, a pale, thin and elegant face on its side as its owner lay in slumber. Body covered in a blue hospital blanket, the figure seemed comatose, if not dead. Adam shook his raven head and flew back out the window to perch on the sill. He cawed three times in slow succession, and was replied to by a short bark. Adam flew back into the room, landed on the floor, and shifted back into his human form. At once the alarms went off, and the vampire threw a quick shield up around the room.

Adam went to the bed, and stared down at the sick woman. "_enervate,_" he whispered, waving his hand over her face, and slowly, her eyes opened; "Miss Narcissa Malfoy," Adam whispered; "It's come to our attention that you will soon find yourself in danger should you remain at this place. I am here to take you to a residence far safer—"

Before he could continue, the door was blasted off its hinges and several wizards entered the room. Adam readied himself.

* * *

Sabet sighed as he walked down the hall, Evan at his side. The young werewolf had become one with himself again; he hadn't even bothered communicating to anyone at all. Sabet knew the toll of the absence of his mother and teacher was great on the young man. Morgan was all the boy had, the only one who would take him in besides Sabet himself. And Sabet was far too busy, so of course Morgan's absence was bad. She had been gone for over two months, after all. Evan was by no means needy or lonely; he was just busy worrying, thinking.

Sabet was about to speak, when he suddenly felt a wave of anxiety. There was a breech in the wards, someone had Aparated in and had been running from danger.

"Evan, alert the mediwizard!!!" Sabet said immediately, leaving the young werewolf behind as he began running for the second floor, to the foyer. It was late in the evening, something had to be wrong and someone would more than likely be hurt. Dissatisfied with his speed, Sabet closed his eyes, whispered a simple spell, and found himself on the second floor. He saw Morgan supporting Amos, who seemed unconscious.

"Morste, quickly, help me!!!" the female said without her eyes drawing away from Amos; "We were attacked!!!"

"You'd best explain where you were!" Sabet said, worried anger evident, appearing at Amos' free side and slinging his arm over his shoulder; "I'll take him from here. You need to find Evan and tell him that you're safe… for the most part," he added, and then he was gone, like vapor on the wind.

Morgan nodded dumbly, feeling lost as she sank to her knees, hands clutching her chain and Saint once again as she stared at the floor. She'd almost caused Amos' death, it had been her idea… she was to be blamed. Morgan let the tears fall, didn't care as they rolled down her pale, rosy cheeks, down her chin and to her cloak and dress that pooled around her lithe form. She closed her eyes and sobbed quietly, almost silently; not looking up as she heard hurried footsteps, a slide along the floor that came with quickly rounding a corner.

**_Mother… _**

Morgan's eyes snapped open as she felt someone embrace her; a relieved, powerful hold that said simply "Thank God you're here" and Morgan closed her eyes and sighed. Evan was with her, she could freely cry now.

And she did, wrapping her arms around her adoptive son in a weeping, weak, enfold.

* * *

The morning sun brought Harry to consiousness, but hekept his eyes closed as he inhaled and sighed. Opening his eyes slightly, he saw that he was being held. He had his arms around Draco, and the blonde was doing the same. Memories of just hours before came, then, and Harry rubbed his eyes with a weary yawn. He rose, propping himself up on his hands and stretched arms, looking at Draco again. He could sense that the blonde was awake, and Harry leaned down to kiss Draco's cheek and jaw. The blonde mumbled, opening one eye half-way to look at Harry, a smirk showing itself slightly on his lips. Harry stopped, looking at Draco with a small smile.

"Thank-you," he said quietly, and Draco chuckled.

"Anything, love, just so long as you stop having nightmares," Draco admonished as he sat up, Harry leaning back. Draco yawned; "So… when will you be leaving?" he asked, forlorn flashing through his silver eyes for a moment.

Harry shrugged slightly; "Remus will come for me, I suppose," he said; "But, I packed last night. I probably won't—" he stopped as they heard a knock on the door. Harry turned around and crawled out of the bed, pulling the strings at the waistband of his pajama bottoms and tying them off securely as he walked languidly over to the door. Yawning, he opened it, and was surprised to see Snape.

"Severus!!!" Harry exclaimed, backing up slightly as the Professor walked in; "I… what are you…?"

"Sev?" Draco called, crawling out of the bed.

Severus silently, slowly closed the door, and both vampires knew something was wrong for the atmosphere had turned somber quickly.

"Sev…" Draco repeated again, weakly, dragged out as if he did not wish to speak willingly.

Harry walked over to Draco, wrapping an arm around him when Snape said; "Draco, it's concerning your mother…"

Draco gasped; "What?" he asked, and Harry strengthened his hold slightly when the blonde threatened to charge forward. "What's wrong with her?!"

Snape sighed; "She was… taken, from St. Mungo's last night. We've only now just received word."

Draco groaned and held his tongue as he shouted in rage, turning into Harry chest and beating against it lightly with a fist. Harry was unfazed by this, and wrapped his other arm around Draco as Snape wearily sighed before continuing.

"She was stolen away," he explained; "The staff was found unconscious or stunned, and every charm and ward had been lifted and removed. Her room was found unscathed, as if there had been no clash—"

"Well of course there wasn't, she was incarcerated!" Draco snapped angrily, glaring at Snape for a moment; "How could they let this happen?" he asked quietly, looking at Harry for support.

Harry walked Draco over to the bed, and down with him. Draco moaned and held his face in his hands, and Harry rubbed his back, unsure of what else he could do. Snape watched for a moment before moving over to the bed, and bending down in front of Draco; "Draco," he said, "I know this is a hard blow for you, especially with everything that's happened, and probably will. But you must keep face and not to let anyone know of this. Dumbledore has left to see if there is anything he can do, but it may come to you accompanying me to the Malfoy Estate to aid the Ministry in finding her."

"Why would we go there?" Draco asked suddenly, fearfully, eyes wide as he moved his hands to look up at Snape.

Snape sighed; "Think clearly, Draco!" he said exasperatedly; "I too am worried for your mother, but I would expect you to know…"

Draco continued to stare at his godfather, then nodded with realization; "Oh," was all he said, and he looked down dejectedly.

"What?" Harry asked.

Draco exhaled slowly, before looking at Harry; "You remember why my mother was in St. Mungo's?" he asked.

Harry nodded; "It was a curse the bounced off of armor, right?" he asked, and Draco nodded.

"Yes," Draco said; "My father was the one who sent the curse. They, the Ministry, intend to go back to the Manor and search for any thing that might aid them. Left behind books, pictures, maps…" he sighed, not wanting to go further. Harry nodded, and Draco leaned against him.

"In the mean time," Snape said, his onyx eyes moving to Harry; "Remus wants you to meet him outside Hogwarts' Gates by nine with an away bag packed for one nights' stay. You two will be visiting someone and you're not to be coming back until tomorrow. Unless, that is, you still want to…"

Harry looked at Draco, and the blonde looked up at him. Already the Malfoy had set his face in royal indifference, as if nothing had gone wrong and everything was fine; "Go," Draco said; "I can't go anywhere, anyway. There's more than likely a price on my head now," he added with a smirk.

Harry smirked slightly, though not at all convinced things were "fine"; "Well, suppose I should get ready and get going, then," he said, getting up slowly.

Severus nodded and rose, groaning as he held a hand to the small of his back; "Oh I am afraid old age is catching up with me," he complained comically, causing the two teens to chuckle and smirk at the Potions Master. Snape showed a rare smirk, almost smiling. Almost. "Well, I'll see you both later," and with that, he left.

Draco sighed and fell back onto the bed, curling up and fisting his hand in the sheets while his other arm was bent, his head laying on his forearm as he stared off. Harry dressed in warm Muggle clothing, then walked over to the bed again as he slung the over-night bag over his shoulder. He leaned over, crawling onto the bed with one knee braced as he bent down and kissed Draco's cheek.

"You sure you'll be okay?" he asked quietly, seriously.

"I'm sure," Draco mumbled, closing his eyes; "Hurry. I'm sure Sirius is waiting…"

Harry smiled, and ruffled the delicate blonde hair as he rose, knowing it would succeed in pissing the blond off. Draco groaned again, but as he through a pillow, Harry dodged it, and was gone out the door.

* * *

Harry walked out of the gates of Hogwarts without so much as a breath of his departure, a light bag over his shoulder. Once he was clear of the boundaries, he began to run for the train platform, reaching it in record time. He looked around, frozen still, searching for any sign of his second godfather. He sighed with relief as he picked up traces, and walking around a corner he saw Remus waiting for him, leaning against an expensive, ritzy Muggle car. The wizard was also dressed in Muggle clothing.

Remus smiled warmly as Harry walked up; "Well, we've got a good drive ahead;" he said, the door opening for him with a wave of his hand.

Harry climbed into the backseat, and saw Remus crawl in after him; "who's going to drive?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Harry, we're wizards," Remus said exasperatedly, hitting him on the side of the head lightly; "Gods, what a wonderful memory you have!" he said sarcastically, and Harry swatted him back.

"Let's just get going," Harry said excitedly, and the door slammed and then they were off.

* * *

Harry must have fallen asleep because when he woke, Remus was getting out of the car. Harry stuck his head out of the door, and automatically crisp autumn air stung his face as it rushed with the wind. He pulled his collar up, then got out. He gasped.

"But… when was a road put here?!" he shouted, infuriated.

They were at the Manor, Sabet's estate, and if the road had been there the entire time, like the second path had been, Harry would have sworn up and down and hexed the Elder into oblivion for such trickery. But Remus only laughed quietly, and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder to calm him.

"Morste fashioned it so the car wouldn't 've had to be levitated or we wouldn't have to bother with portkeys," he explained; "Now, we should be meeting our…" his voice trailed off as he sniffed the air.

"what?" Harry asked looking around.

"There are werewolves," Remus muttered; "Quite a few, if I can count I'd say about thirty-five…" he looked at Harry, "One's heading for us."

"I'm sure it's just Evan," Harry said, "Morste told me about a few residents here. Evan's a type four lycanthropy and he's a mute, as well."

"Oh, what a lucky combination," Remus said; "At least he can communicate telepathically, he doesn't need to talk."

Harry blinked slowly, then nodded. Of course Remus would know about the different classes of werewolves; he as one after all; "what class are you?" Harry asked.

Remus was silent for a moment before replying; "Two," he said; "The monthly shifts are painful, but my senses are heightened dramatically and my alternate Animagus form can go undetected. I can also communicate with other wolves, were- or normal."

"Wow," Harry said, "Cool."

Remus smiled slightly; "Yes, suppose it is," he said, then he sighed; "Well, 'Evan' has stopped… oh never mind."

As Remus said this, the front doors opened, and Evan stuck his head out, brushing shaggy brown bangs from his large amber eyes. He smiled slightly, opening the doors completely and showing the interior of the castle off. Harry and Remus walked up, and introduced themselves.

Evan then explained that Sirius was in the royal chambers of the red and gold, and that the quickest way to get there was for either Harry to run them up, fly through the halls, or for Remus to Apparate. Remus chose the last, and Evan produced a map from his robe sleeves. After explaining the floors and walls, Remus was confident he could Apparate them to outside of the room. Sighing and clasping hands, Werewolf and vampire bid Evan farewell, and with a loud crack they were gone.

* * *

Sirius jumped as he heard a loud cracking noise, but almost instantly got his hopes up. He stared eagerly at the door, wishing now more than ever that his legs could work and his back wasn't still stiff. He was still confined to the bed, after all. He heard the door open and rushed feet crossing the sitting area. A hand drew back the large decoration curtains by the wall, and a smile cracked Sirius's face as he saw Remus and Harry rush to him. Without word the three embrace, Remus and Harry on either side of Sirius, and for a moment, it was perfect.

"We thought you for dead;" Remus whispered, breathing in the scent he had missed for so long.

"I missed you both," Sirius managed, overcome. Remus and Harry let him go, sitting on the bed. Sirius sat up fully and wiped the back of his hand over his eyes quickly, then looked at Harry; "Harry… you've changed… a lot. Can't say it's a bad thing, though, sure all of the ladies are crawling over you," he added good-naturedly as he laughed quietly.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: I've decided that vampires speak their spells, hexes, and curses in Portuguese, well, they can, and it's preferred because it's a direct link to an ancient language I'll talk about later. It harnesses every ounce of magic and what not. Anyway, chapter 21!!!!! Yay go team!!!

translations:

((1)) "kill his spirit".

((2)) "rot the marrow" (like what's in your bones).

((3)) "We become one with the air

We become one with the sky

We become one with the moon

For this moment we will die

For this moment we will turn

Into etheral spirits

For this moment will buy us life

As we leave and go to where our Hearts bid us"

there are the translations!!!! more to come (possibly). ---Boom-Rhapsody


	22. Invalids and Crimson Brandy

**A/N:** I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY that this was So very late. One: I caught a string of the flu. Two: I have barely gotten any free time. Three: I had exams and so much homework. But I have let you all down, so please forgive me!

Thank-you to everyone who reviewed!

Disclaimer: I OWN JACK SQUAT…. sigh but not Harry Potter. Nope… Damnit.

**------22------**

Sabet entered the private infirmary rooms, and Adam jumped from his chair by a desk out of surprise; "Sabet, what—?" he began, but upon seeing Amos, Adam went into action; "Quick, put him on the bed and get rid of his cloak and shirt;" he then turned back around and pulled out clothes and potions from a nearby cabinet.

Sabet did as he was told, laying Amos down on the bed. Amos hissed as his shoulder met the fabric, and he stiffened when Sabet removed his cloak and shirt; "Amos, you must talk to me," Sabet said calmly as he examined the other vampire's shoulder;" You must not go to sleep, understood?"

"…Morgan…" Amos coughed, his voice raspy, trying.

"Shh, she is fine," Sabet assured quietly; "Amos, continue talking. You must fight the potion…"

With all his capabilities, Amos tried to nod, a simple movement of his head; "It _hurts_… all… over," he whispered, opening his eyes and squinting. He stared at the ceiling longingly, and closed his eyes as he began whispering; "_Dieu m'épargne s'il vous plaît de cette torture_… ((1))!"

Adam came over with a vial; "Amos, can you hear me?" he asked, and was replied with a nod from the ailing vampire; "You need to drink this;" he pulled the cork from the vial, and Amos stared at it through squinting eyes. Adam held Amos's chin gently, lifting his head back, and poured the contents of the vial into an open mouth. Clear as water it was quickly drained and Adam set it down, walking away to get bandages. Sabet helped him dress the stray wounds, but Adam wished for the shoulder wound, where the deadly bullet had struck, to be left bare.

"Why?" Sabet asked.

"Actually, I'm planning on using a Muggle method to save him," Adam said; "I've been reading up on it." he added quickly for good measure. "It's called a 'blood transfusion'. Since we have access to such fluids instantly down in the cellars, I have sent someone out to gather what I'll need from a hospital. I'll then switch his blood out with another's…"

"But, won't that interfere with his vampirism?"

"…Shouldn't. I won't remove it all. I'll combine a charm that will filter out only the poison. The transfusion will replace any blood that's lost in the process…"

"Adam, you have a head on your shoulders, but so help me if Amos is hurt worse now…"Sabet warned, pushing his hands off the bed and stepping back, his eyes never leaving Adam's. The younger vampire did not show fear or bow his head to avert his gaze, no, he was not a fool, and Sabet knew this.

"You know me too well Sabet to accuse me of such a failure," was all Adam said, then he turned his attention to Amos; "Amos, I'm about to perform a procedure that might hurt. I'll be using Muggle devices. Are you okay with this?"

A weak nod from the vampire in question, and Sabet left quietly, hearing Adam draw a curtain around the area. Sabet walked towards the steps, and saw a flighty witch/werewolf rush past, a carrier with blood and several Muggle things, shrunken down of course, within it. Sighing, Sabet began his decent to the parlor, where he would wait for Faust to come and discuss the matters at hand.

* * *

"… And then I walked back down the aisle, walked over to the Slytherin Table, held Draco's hand and kissed him then and there. Really my way of saying 'fuck you all' to those who'd lied me and used me."

Sirius shook his head as he chuckled quietly to himself. He rubbed his brow, and said; "My how you've changed, Harry," he sighed, looking at his godson, wearily, worriedly; "I just can't believe this. I mean, there were times when I thought Dumbledore was hiding something, but… all of this scheming, brought upon _you_. It's… it's quite a lot to take, in all honesty."

"Sorry, love," Remus said; "But, it has taken us three hours to tell the tale, and I'm hungry."

Harry's eyes brightened at the mentioning of food; "Ooh, food sounds good!" he said with an almost childish smirk. He got off the edge of the bed; "I'll try and find Sabet."

"Be careful, Harry," Remus and Sirius said in unison, both watching Harry exit. When Remus heard his footsteps trailing away, he then turned to his long-lost lover, a sad look in his eyes; "I missed you so much, Sirius," he said solemnly; "I was so lonely, I… I thought… the worst…"

Sirius held his arm open, and Remus laid at his side, overcome. Sirius wrapped his arm around his lover's shoulders, sighing. As Sirius began to nod off, he heard Remus whisper; "Will things get better? Will it ever be like before?"

"No one's brought back the dead yet, have they?" Sirius muttered as he closed his eyes, and he felt Remus shake his head. "But we _can_ try to get close to what we had…"

* * *

Harry walked quickly down the hall, eyes darting everywhere, taking everything in. The castle, or Manor, as it was referred to as, was very large, and each hallway was almost identical. Harry stopped on what he thought was the sixth floor, and stood there, frozen, in the light of the fading sun cast through a stain-glass window. He was bathed in Gold, and for a moment he sighed and closed his eyes as he felt the warm sunlight. But his eyes snapped open when he caught the sent of salt… tears. Soon crying came to his ears. Harry quickly found the door the noise and scent came from, and knocked once. The crying stopped, but Harry heard faint snuffling.

"Who is it?" a woman's voice called weakly.

Harry opened the door slightly, and poked his head in; "Narcissa Malfoy?" he asked, stepping in fully and drawing a gasp from the woman.

"Harry Potter!" Narcissa whispered, her pale blue eyes wide with surprise. For once, she did not try to compose herself; "Where am I? Who were those two men! Is this something with the Order? Why aren't I unconscious? I'm supposed to be ill! This isn't right, I—!"

"Shut up!" Harry said loudly, and for a moment, Narcissa was silent and stared at him, outraged; "How dare you silence me!" she suddenly shrieked; "I'll have you—"

"What, hanged?" Harry snapped; "Gods, woman, calm down! I didn't even get five words in edgewise before you started going on and on with your quandaries! Now, slow it down and take a breath."

Narcissa glared at the dark haired youth, and crossed her arms. She closed her eyes and sighed, rubbing her temples; "Excuse that," she said calmly, looking out the window with faded sky-blue eyes; "Now, Harry Potter, why are you here?"

"This is a respite place for me," Harry said, "But, I should get the owner to come see you…"

"No, you will do well to tell me what's going on NOW."

Harry gritted his teeth and bit his tongue to hold a harsh remark. The woman had a strong determination to stay the aristocratic princess she'd always been; "It would take too long to explain," he said heatedly; "And for your sake, you'd best show me the respect I deserve."

Narcissa rolled her eyes; "Boy, all the fame must have gone to your head," she said snidely.

Harry just stared at her, anger mixing with slight confusion. How could she say such a thing, when she herself felt the pressures of the public eye as well? "And I thought Draco got his caring from you," Harry muttered, before opening the door. He only halted when Narcissa spoke.

"Draco? _My_ Draco? Oh, please tell me he's doing fine!" She begged, the topic of her only son changing her mood drastically.

Harry turned back around, and faced the woman; "He's fine," he said, "Why would you ask?"

Narcissa looked away, out the window; "His father escaped," she said quietly.

"Yes, we're all aware of that, but—"

"Lucius will surely have a price on his son's head," Narcissa said, sighing. She looked at Harry; "You've changed," she said; "Quite a lot."

"I've been getting that from a lot of people," Harry said; "But yes, I have."

Narcissa was silent; "Harry, what is going on?" she finally asked tiresomely, wearily looking at him.

Again, Harry was silent. Had she used his name? His _first_ name, no less? Consciously, he knew that somehow, an agreement had been reached. Somehow, there wasn't to be anymore bickering between them. Perhaps it was the look in her eyes; so tired, distant, confused and frustrated. Or perhaps it was the lack of glow to her face, no arrogant sophistication. For the first time, Harry was seeing her as a normal, average woman. Not a Malfoy, or a witch, or a Death Eater's wife, just a woman thrown into this vortex of hurt and sorrow.

And so, Harry walked back in, closed the door, and walked over to collect a chair in the far corner. He brought it back over to the side of the bed, sat down in it, and then began talking to Narcissa Malfoy, a woman he thought he was supposed to hate and be on opposite sides of, but yet, he could not find himself there.

* * *

Draco tried to carry on, but the constant worry over his mother left him somewhat distant. Blaise and Pansy stuck at his sides like guards; though they did not know what was bothering him, and he was not about to tell them, they could tell something was wrong from the moment Draco came out of his room—alone, at that. They had asked where Harry had been, but all Draco said was that he was over-stressed and had been taken to a retreat. He had to agree though that Lunch was the worst.

He, Blaise, and Pansy, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, had entered the Great Hall, most heads turning to watch them sit, as usual. But all had noticed the lack of the ex-Golden Boy at breakfast, and he was still missing almost four hours later. Draco had gotten food, but instead of eating it, he merely drew his fork through it, lost in thought. His senses seemed heightened, and he knew he was more on-edge than usual. It was nearing the middle of September; soon the Harvest Moon would be rising. Inwardly Draco cringed; he remembered last year, just before he had inherited the vampirism, and how horrible it had been. He hoped that this year would be different, however unlikely it was that it would be any different.

"Draco?" Pansy said quietly, calmly; "You're not eating."

"Not hungry," Draco muttered, his fork falling from his hand. Without his wand or hand, Draco moved the plate away from him. It slammed into Blaise's, sending food into the boy's face. Blaise yelped in surprise, then an almost growl-like sound escaped his clenched teeth as he wiped his face with a napkin. Pansy couldn't help but chuckle, but Draco was neither moved nor amused. He glanced at Blaise, eyes devoid of emotion.

But as a sudden scent that he loathed began to draw near, Draco turned. His back had been to the other tables, but now he saw a familiar and disliked redhead heading over, followed by the mudblood, Seamus, and Dean. Why he referred to the latter two, he really had no clue. And openly agreed with Draco and Harry, or perhaps it was because he had never truly despised them, despite Seamus' bloodlines. But all thoughts aside, the Gryffindors approached the Slytherin Table.

"What do you want, Weasel?" Draco sneered, standing up. Pansy rose as well. Blaise got up, walked across the table, and stood to Draco's free side.

"Conference," Was all Ron said through gritted teeth. Draco could smell anger and worry coming from him.

"In the library," Seamus piped up, walking up to stand between the two slightly.

Dean nodded when Draco glanced at him. The Malfoy crossed his arms, looking at the four; "Fine," he said, "I wasn't hungry anyway."

* * *

"Alright, ferret boy, where'd Harry go?"

Draco had barely sat down when Ron all but attacked him with questions. They were once again in the private room in the library from before. Seamus glared at Ron as he and Dean sat down. Hermione too gave him a scornful glance as she sat down. Blaise and Pansy had already sat down on a love seat, staring coldly at Ron.

"He's gone to a retreat house, with Professor Lupin," Draco stated calmly, "But then again, why would you care?"

Ron was silent, then Hermione said; "We were merely curious, Malfoy. After all, the first DA meeting is only a few days away."

"I'm well aware of that, Granger," Malfoy snapped.

"Dra— err I mean Malfoy — what's got you in a tizzy?" Dean asked mock aggressively.

"I've had a migraine all morning long, _Thomas_, and I'm warning you to tread carefully," Draco said warningly.

"Can we just move on?" Pansy asked snidely, "We've only got about half an hour before our next class."

Hermione nodded; "Well, we need to plan the curriculum for the DA. We'll be meeting in the Room of Requirement again, like last year, and—"

"I'll tell you what would be good '_curriculum'_," Draco said, rising; "How were the members on curses? On charms focused around defense tactics? What about the skills they would need on the battle field? Do you even know who exactly you'll be up against? Do you—?"

"Draco, they get it," Pansy said, then she looked at Hermione heatedly; "Look, whether you like it or not you know that we're going to be valuable in the future. We have knowledge that no Child of the Light would ever learn, least they cross over. Do not try to act like you run the show, _Mudblood_, because you are far from leading anything."

Hermione sat there, thoroughly thunderstruck. These Slytherins meant business. But then she became angry, how dare they talk to her in such a way.

"I'm done here," Draco suddenly said, heading for the door. He opened it and left, slamming the door none too gently.

Pansy made to follow him, but Blaise held her hand and stopped her. She looked at him and shook her head, then glared at the Gryffindors; "You've no idea what he's going through, don't begin to judge him. We'd all act that way too, if our parents were taken."

"Oh, he cared about his father that much?" Ron scoffed, snorting; "I guess the old saying is true; Like father like son. Draco's probably going ballistic now that his—"

He never got the chance to finish. Blaise had lunged from his seat, and punched Ron square in the Jaw. "We're done here, as well, Pansy," Blaise said, offering his hand to his girlfriend. Graciously, she took it, and when both left the room Blaise closed the door, then ran down to the nearest aisle before looking at Pansy with a seriously stare; "How'd you know what was bothering Drake?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

"I didn't! I just figured that it had to be something that had to do with his mother!" pansy replied in the same tone.

And then Blaise sighed; "I think that _is _the problem, love," he whispered.

* * *

Sabet stirred crimson life into his brandy. It was that time of year—feeding time. Since he had sworn upon his own death not to feast on a living thing, for fear of killing it, he substituted his instinctive urges to hunt with quick excursions to the cellars below where blood was kept in cooled and carefully regulated chambers. The vampire sighed after his first sip.

His parlor was his haven, Sabet had to admit. Sectioned off in a private wing, he retreated here often, to escape the chaos that he could normally tolerate. But with everything that was going on, Sabet was beginning to lose patience with the world around him…

"I can imagine that 1897 brandy with 1950 blood would be a careful mix to drink…"

Sabet turned in his seat to see Faust standing in the doorway. With a nod, he entered, and took a seat opposite of Sabet. Faust saw that there was a glass of the same crimson brandy, and he took it. Sipping it he had to admit it was a very fine taste, but he knew he needed to get down to the point of things.

"That witch did not come easily," Faust said; "After all, she was at Saint Mungos… it was crawling with Aurors and the like," he took a sip from his glass; "Morste, I fear that the wizincoma is getting too close to us. Just the other day I was walking through the village at the base of the mountain, and I could have sworn I felt his presence."

"All in paranoia, my good comrade," Sabet said; "Ellis Vander will be too busy hunting out werewolves in Russia at this time," he paused; "…But if he was last seen in Switzerland… there is no telling what is going through his mind…"

"… What will we do, once the time arises?"

"I will take care of things. If not I, then you, and if not you, pray tell the young Harry Potter could."

* * *

Arthur Weasley passed in his office. Back and forth, back and forth; he had memorized the locations of every squeaking plank. He rubbed his hands together nervously. Finally, he sat down behind his majestic mahogany desk, idly rearranging a stack of papers already neatly put to the side.

Then his secretary poked her head in and said; "Minister, Ellis Vander is here. He says he has—"

"Yes—of course, send him in," Arthur said distractedly.

The secretary disappeared, and Ellis Vander strode in, and air of serenity around him. Arthur motioned for him to sit down in the leather chair before the desk, and Vander did. For a while, nothing was said; the two merely inspected each other.

"To what do I owe such an honor, minister?" Vander suddenly asked.

"Well, Mister Vander, I am in need of your… services," Arthur said; "You've done a great deal for the ministry, and in the past you've been rewarded greatly," he rose from his seat, and taking a file from the top of the stack, he opened it up and placed it before Vander; "But I have an assignment that is… a little unorthodox towards your training…"

"What might this assignment be, Minister?" Vander asked.

"Well, as you can see, that is the file of an _Invalid_," Arthur said, sitting down again; "His name is Morste Sabet, but he has been known simply as Allivander Ross."

"What do you mean by invalid, Minister?" Vander asked.

"Oh, well, it's merely a term that says someone has cut themselves off from our world, or that they have been exiled, or, technically, never existed."

"And… This Morste Sabet, he falls under…?"

"The second. He was exiled after being found to be a Vampire, and has since, supposedly, 'disappeared'."

"So then, why chase after someone who could be dead?"

"Sabet was spotted in the City of Nice, in France, chatting it up with a young man at a local pub. A witness over heard their conversation, and reported that Sabet was going on about 'a safe place to nurture one's powers and being kept safe from those wanting to persecute his kind.'"

"So… he's running a haven of sorts… for vampires?"

"And werewolves, elves, banshees, veelas, the creatures that evolve through humanly means," Arthur sighed; "He's also, supposedly, gathering forces to rise up and overthrow the Ministry. There is word that the vampires have their own government, a democracy of sorts," he paused; "Do they?" he asked, looking at Vander seriously.

Vander shrugged; "I've never had contact with any of my kind;" he said; "I wouldn't know."

"Well," Arthur said; "I want you to find Morste Sabet. He's obviously a leading figure, and if there is going to be a vampire up-rise, it's best we stop it before it ever happens."

Vander nodded, then smirked; "May I ask what you find so amusing, Mister Vander?" Arthur asked.

"Oh, nothing, Minister, just that… well, I do think I've met this Morste Sabet before," Vander said.

"And…?" Arthur urged.

"I do believe that, I think I might know where his _'haven'_ is."

"Brilliant, my good fellow! Simply brilliant! Once you've located it, you must alert me and I will give you enough Aurors to take care of the job."

"Thank-you kindly, Minister, but I have and forever shall perform my tasks on my own," he rose, "I bid you good day."

"And you as well, Mister Vander," Arthur said, and watched as the wizincoma left his office. Shortly after, an Auror entered the room, by the name of Rodger Edinburgh.

"Rodger," Arthur said, walking over to the Auror. He came close to he other man, so that he could whisper into his ear. He whispered; "Keep an eye on the wizincoma. I want someone watching him ALWAYS. 24/7. Nightshifts, dayshifts, whatever, just don't let him out of your sight. When he seems to be on to something, follow him. Once he's done his job, take care of him. I don't want him back in my office unless he's dead. Got it?"

"Of course, Minister."

* * *

**TBC 3**

* * *

please review! thank-you! 


	23. Genocide and Illness

**A/N:**

Thank-you to everyone who reviewed!

_Disclaimer: I OWN JACK SQUAT…. sigh but not Harry Potter. Nope… Damnit._

**------23------**

Harry walked out of the room, having left when Narcissa had fallen asleep mid-sentence. He took his time getting back to Sirius and Remus, so sure that they would enjoy the alone time and put it to good use. Harry felt oddly at peace, for once, contented with his surroundings. School was hectic, full of sounds, and smells, and drama. But here, at the castle, it felt… antique with serenity, homey, even. Calm, warm, and relatively silent, save for its occupants. Harry could quickly get used to the place. He would have to make a mental note coming to visit more often.

Harry stopped at the grand staircase, a polished, black spiraling structure that started in the foyer and continued upward to a tower. Harry wondered what could possibly be at the top. A room, perhaps, or maybe a gateway to another realm, the possibilities seemed endless. As the ideas poured into his mind, Harry climbed the steps, escalating in his speed as his curiosity spurred him onward. Before he knew it, he had reached the highest platform.

He had stepped onto a marble platform. There were windows all around the circular shaped space, a door on the opposite side of the stairs. Harry looked around; the room he was in seemed to be the entire diameter of the tower's top, but then, he was a wizard/vampire and this was the magical world. Sighing, he walked over, and turned the door knob.

A great gust of wind hit Harry's face as he opened the door. But instead of finding the sky in front of him, he saw what appeared to be a massive potion's lab. There were walls of alchemy books packed on shelves, a little nook up in the rafters where Harry supposed there was a bed or some form of bedding. But Harry was more so intrigued with a draped object that sat on a stool, under a beam of light. The scene just screamed: "DON'T TOUCH ME". , but Harry went to it with a mischievous look to his eye one would expect a naughty seven-year-old to possess. Reaching for the velvety cover, he froze. What if it was something dangerous? He thought. Oh well. He gripped the soft fabric, and pulled it away.

Sitting on a stand was a picture frame of gold and silver, but it held no picture within it. Harry stared, scratching his head in thought. He had expected an item of interest, like a magical mirror, or a cousin of the Sorting Hat. But an epty picture frame?

Harry looked at the silver inscriptions around the frame. It was written in a language he did not understand, nor recognize. It appeared to be a broken mix of Latin and Greek, symbols and letters together. Harry leaned forward and blew away some dust.

The picture frame began to shake and Harry jumped back in shock. He watched avidly as the frame glowed a resilient blue, then a blinding white that had Harry shielding his line of vision with a hand. The glow died out slowly, and his hand fell as he stared.

Where a picture was supposed to be was a silvery replacement. It moved like liquid steel behind a piece of glass. Cautiously Harry stepped forward, and the steely mass began to move in a frenzy, spinning madly and mixing itself up. Harry felt a source of heat from the frame, and, without much thought, reached out. With his index finger, he touched the picture, and felt his finger slowly being pulled in. Harry wrenched his hand away from it, shocked to find that his fingertip was covered in a metallic oil. Wiping it on his pants, he stared at the frame in disbelief.

"What the hell are you?" he thought aloud.

The silver swirled in a spiral, and it then began to form the general shape of an old man. Harry could make out a beard, a bald head, two eyes and a Jewish nose. Harry took a step away from the now portrait, unsure and wary of his sudden situation. Without really thinking about it, he popped the joints in his right hand, ready should the need arise to cast spells

"I am the _Victim of Genocide_," the portrait of the old man said in a hollow, deep voice.

And Harry blinked in confusion.

* * *

Morgan had wandered to the infirmary wing, Evan faithfully at her side. Her adoptive werewolf son leaned against the wall and sighed, his hands in his pocket. Morgan stared at the door, knowing who was behind it and what was going on. She could feel Amos, his pain, his fear… his soul. She could sense Adam's worry and insecurity in his own skills.

_Mother_, Evan sent to her, and Morgan looked at him.

"What, my son?" she asked.

_Everything will be well_, Evan said hopefully, smiling at her.

Morgan patted her son on the shoulder; "I pray that it will be," she whispered, looking at the door again.

Suddenly, the doorknob turned, and Adam poked his head out; "I thought I sensed guilt," he said, his eyes resting on Morgan.

Morgan bowed her head. Adam closed the door and stood in front of her. "He's going to be fine, Morgan," Adam assured her; "The last of the transfusion is underway, nothing went wrong, and I expect him to make a full recovery."

Morgan looked up, smiling as she wiped a tear from her cheek. Adam smiled, "Would you like to see him?" he asked.

Morgan nodded, and Adam opened the door, "Don't be too long, though," he whispered, and she nodded again.

Morgan was still until Adam closed the door, then she rushed to the bedside where Amos lay, motionless. She quickly cast a spell so that she could not be sensed or overheard, then sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Oh, Amos," she said quietly, taking his hand; "Please, pull through this."

Amos coughed, wincing; "M… Morgan?" he asked, squinting as he cracked an eye open. He smiled and sighed, squeezing her hand gently; "Hey…"

Morgan smiled; "You're very lucky," she whispered.

"Well, I owe the Muggles one," Amos said, laughing. He winced and groaned, turning slightly on his side.

"Oh! Be careful," Morgan said; "Here," she gently pushed him back down, getting up to fluff up his pillow. Amos watched her, smiling to himself. Morgan looked at him and she smiled; "What?" she asked innocently.

"I want to tell you something," Amos whispered.

Unable to hear him clearly, Morgan leaned in, and Amos kissed her.

* * *

"Draco, eat something!"

"No."

"Please?"

"I said I wasn't hungry!"

"Yeah, hours ago! But that's what's bothering us! Aren't you hungry?

"Draco, we're worrying about you."

"Yeah, drake, come on, eat!"

"NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY!"

Draco screamed the phrase, and Pansy along with Blaise took a step back.

"What the fuck's got your panties in a twist?" Blaise asked; "It's like you're affected by the weather!"

At that, Draco was silent, anger gone form his face. Getting up from his chair by the fire, he went to the nearest window. Looking out, he saw how the midday sun was nearly set. Where was Harry? That wasn't really important though, at the moment. With a look of fear and worry in his eyes, Draco continued to stare at the sky.

"Draco?" Pansy asked warily; "What's the matter?"

Draco looked at his friends, and uttered a single word; "The Equinox… It's upon us."

"So?" Blaise asked.

Draco looked back at the window. He coughed, and quickly blamed it on the dust from the books, though he knew better; "We have to get into contact with Harry," he said, coughing again.

They left the empty classroom in which Draco had initially run to for a little alone time, but Blaise and Pansy had found him, anyway.

"Can't you just, project a thought to him?" Pansy asked quietly as they walked down the hall.

"No," Draco said, "I've… I've tried. He's too far away, I suppose."

Blaise held back a smart comment, and instead said; "I bet he's on his way. In the mean time, why don't we get on to supper?"

Draco knew that his two friends were trying to get him to eat, but he had thrown what little he had in his stomach up already. He felt nauseous, his breathing was irregular… he wanted to just lie down somewhere, anywhere, but he was too nervous. Blaise and Pansy could tell, he knew, but at the rate he was going, soon he wouldn't care.

"Draco, watch out!" he heard Pansy say, and Blaise pulled Draco away from a step that had chosen to vanish.

"Huh what? Oh, oops," Draco said drowsily.

"Draco, fess up," Pansy said worriedly; "What's the matter?"

She felt his forehead but recoiled; he was cold as ice; "Oh my god!" she gasped; "Blaise, we have to get Draco back to his room, he's really sick!"

* * *

Sabet and Faust sat in companionable silence, both sipping on the crimson brandy. As the sun set behind the mountains, Sabet sighed. Faust could since the Elder's weariness.

"Morste," he said quietly; "The Equinox is not so far off."

"Of such I know, good friend," Morste said, rising; "I'm beginning to suffer as it is."

"As am I," Faust said; "Morste… This will be Harry Potter's first Equinox," he said testily, not sure of whether or not the grounds he tried upon were safe or not. When Sabet only moved to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, he continued; "How do you think he will handle it?"

"It is too hard to predict," Sabet mused, sipping his brandy. Holding it out, it left his hand to float back to the small table, and landed down on the tray it had first been on. Sabet held his hands behind his back, watching the sun setting; "I feel that perhaps, he is safest here. But yet…"

"You feel he should learn to cope in his own surroundings?" Faust finished.

Sabet nodded; "But that worries me," he said, "Greatly."

- - -

"The Victim of Genocide?" Harry asked quizzically, waving his hand behind him. A stool appeared, and he sat down, leaning forward to stare at the magical artifact.

The face in the portrait nodded slowly; "I am the memories of the unknown," it said; "Those persecuted and killed for _what_ they were, not _who_."

Harry nodded; "Why are you up here?"

The portrait was silent; "I do not know," it said.

Harry nodded again; "What could I call u, then, since you obviously have know given name," he asked.

"I am every name, every man, every thing who has been killed by genocide," the portrait said.

"It's Unknown, then," Harry said; "Unknown, do you think there will be yet another Genocide?"

"The Magical realm has not seen genocide since 1876 where the elves were taken from Ireland to their deaths;" the portrait said; "But yes, Genocide may be upon the world once again."

Harry was silent; Does it involve… _my_ people?" he asked, implying vampires.

The portrait nodded, slowly, like before; "The Judas in us all will come forth, and betray who once tried to save him from everlasting death and despair."

"_Judas_?" Harry repeated; "Like, Judas as in the biblical figure?"

Again, the slow nod of conformation from the portrait was the reply. Harry nodded, chin in his hand as he thought. It made sense, yet then again, it didn't. He couldn't quite think of anyone who would betray him, per say, but his entire race? Everything was so secretive, so thoughtfully hidden from Wizarding eyes. Only a vampire could pull so a horrible betrayal…

"Would you know the Judas?" Harry asked suddenly.

The portrait was still. Slowly the man's face faded, and Harry watched on as the cloudy metallic began to swirl. It formed the face of a young, handsome man, and Harry stared. The light colored hair, which he assumed to be a blonde shade, reminded him of Draco.

"Ellis Vander," the portrait said in the same, low voice.

Harry rose at the name. He had heard it before, and it was not said with a liking. Harry picked the portrait up. It was warm to his touch, and the old man's face reappeared. Tucking the portrait under his arm, Harry left the room, and ran down the stairs. He came to the third floor, and jetted down the right. He sought for Sabet, and sensed him in the parlor.

Harry burst through the double doors, and saw that Faust was there as well. Sabet looked at him curiously, and then his eyes went to the portrait.

"Harry," he said, walking over; "Where did you find this?"

The portrait floated from Harry's grasp and into Sabet's open hands. Sabet looked at the portrait, and then at Faust; "Come see," he said, looking at the portrait.

Faust rose, and came over. Harry stood and waited where he was, listening to the two vampires converse. He then decided to join the two.

"It's Ahmedi," Faust whispered with disbelief as the old man came into view within the portrait.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Our first forefather slain by the wizards," Sabet explained; "Just before the first attempt to wipe our kind out," he was quiet with reflection for a moment; "Harry, were you near the upper tower?"

Harry was silent; "Yeah," he said finally, looking down; "But, I was only curious, I haven't had the chance to look around…"

"Curiosity is not a thing to be ashamed of, Harry," Sabet said kindly; "Oh my, his mouth's moving…"

That statement said with calm surprise reminded Harry of one person: Albus Dumbledore. He ignored the thought, or tried. But then suddenly, a wave of pain struck his forehead. Harry hissed and held his palms to his scar, backing up and inevitably falling onto a couch. He fell onto his back and writhed and moved, hardly noticing two pairs of strong hands propping him up while one set was placed on his chest.

_A large dark cave… living dead bodies… green water…_

Harry heard an incantation being whispered and numbing heat spread through his chest and throughout his body. Finally, he stilled, and just lay there, breathing heavily and keeping his eyes closed.

"Harry… Harry…"

Harry shook his head feebly, not wanting to open his eyes for some reason. But he did, and his vision was blurry for a moment before clearing. HE saw Faust and Sabet looking down at him worriedly, but when the youngest Vampire seemed to be alright, they both eased.

"Gave us a scare there, lad," Faust said.

Harry sat up fully, and rubbed his head; "Something's up," he whispered, looking at the floor.

"Come again?" Sabet asked; "Harry, was your scar troubling you?"

Harry nodded; "Happens every now and then," he said, looking up; "But, it hasn't lately. I thought it was over, the pain, but I guess Voldemort id up to something again…"

Faust looked at Harry, hoping the sympathy in his eyes was not showing strongly. Here, standing before him, was not the strong-willed, determined rebel he had been told of and met, but a mere teenager in the throws of confusion. Harry had let the hard guard down… But as if Harry had read Faust's thoughts, the seemed back to normal.

"Perhaps some brandy, Harry, to calm your nerves," Sabet said, glancing at Faust as he walked over to a small bar. Apparently, he had noticed the quick change as well.

Harry knew it was more of a statement that a question, so he merely nodded and sighed. Faust rose from the couch and walked over to pick up the portrait that he had dropped on the floor in an effort to aid Harry. He walked over to the mantle, and for a moment, watched the flames. Then, with a swift wave of his hand, a small stand appeared atop the mantle, and Faust set the portrait, now vacant, on it.

Sabet brought back a small glass filled with amber liquid and handed it to Harry. Harry held the glass for a moment to imply a "cheers", then drowned it in one gulp. His face went askew for a moment, and he coughed as he levitated the glass to the nearest coffee table.

Sabet chuckled; "1923 brand," he explained; "It's been in the cellars for a time."

Harry nodded, but found littler humor. Perhaps it was obvious he wasn't a drinker, oh well ,it didn't matter.

"I… I need to get home," he said distractedly; "I'm starting to miss…" his voice trailed off.

Again, Sabet chuckled; "Of course, Harry," he said; "I just want to explain a few things, and then you may be on your way."

Faust chose to leave at this moment, slipping out silently. He went off to get the godfathers, for surely they would want to leave as well.

Harry nodded. "As you know, the equinox is upon us, Harry," Sabet said, his tone serious and to the point; "Symptoms are different for each of us. Should you suddenly feel faint, or nauseous, or in great pain, run straight to a place where no one will be able to find or bother you. If I remember correctly there is a Room at Hogwarts…" he paused with thought; "Ah yes, the Room of Requirement. Here, let us walk and talk, to save you time…"

They left the parlor, walking down the hallway; "Also, Harry, I may be planning on visiting…"

"What!" Harry asked, bewildered; "But, sir, this place, how will it—?"

"Run?" Sabet asked, chuckling; "Faust will handle things, trust in that. He's a very reliable friends and I have been friends with him for over a century. Anyway, yes, I will, to speak with Dumbledore. Ah, don't interrupt, I'll explain.

"Albus and I, we go back as well. Harry, you must understand that though his methods are unorthodox and questionable, he has the best of interests at heart. You for example: his game of manipulation was a way to keep you safe. No, don't interrupt me, Harry, I am not through!" he said with a slight smirk, knowing how Harry desperately wanted to have his say. "The wizard sent an owl, as well. Harry, things are starting to happen in your world, dreadful things. Have you been reading the papers lately?"

"No," Harry said quietly.

Sabet nodded, rubbing his eyes; "Be on the look-out," was all he said.

They mounted the stairs, both going speedily to save time. They met outside of the room Sirius had been placed in, and they could hear a loud conversation being carried on within. Two voices angrily bickered, and it seemed that the argument was escalating. Sabet and Harry exchanged glances, then Harry opened the door.

"Sirius, Remus? What's going… Faust?"

Faust was standing behind a curtain, which, along with the other, had been drawn; "I'm not hollering, if that's what you're wondering," he said simply, then he thumbed behind him; "Black threw a shoe at me. He 'n' Remus are havin' a row."

Harry went past the curtains, and saw Sirius readying another shoe from his spot on the bed; "I said--! Oh, Harry, it's only you, sorry," he said, sighing as he lowered his hand.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, but before Sirius could reply, Remus came out from behind another curtain, adjusting his belt.

"I'll tell you," Remus said, "That nice man was just coming to remind us that I was set to leave soon, and…" he looked at Sirius; "Oh, stupid, stupid us," Remus tutted, crossing his arms; "what were we initially fighting about, _hmm_?" he asked Sirius with an eyebrow raised skeptically.

Sirius leaned back on a mound of pillows; "That I should stay here, until things are cleared up on the outside;" he mumbled; "But I could have gone with you as Padfoot!" he insisted with renewed vigor.

"You and I both know that you would have been recognized by everyone in the Order immediately!" Remus said loudly.

"I could change the color of my coat, and the shape of my muzzle!"

"Sirius, you just don't have the strength!"

Harry rolled his eyes and turned away from the squabble, waling through the curtains and pulling them together tightly. He held his hands upon them for a moment then sighed, and when he let go he saw that Faust was still standing there, obviously amused by the twinkling in his eyes.

"Lover's spat," Harry said simply, shrugging.

Faust chuckled; "Ah, my Lorelei and I had them all the time," he mused.

Harry smirked; "Is she here?" he asked.

Faust nodded; "IN the back, with so many others," he said quietly; "Lorelei was a squib, Harry. She died in the great year of '43, tryin' to save her father from Nazi's."

"Wow," Harry said; "I'm… I'm sorry."

"Why should ya be?" he asked; "She died doin' what she wanted to do: help others. Kinda inspiring, whenever I think about it all," he mused. Then he sighed; "Well, I'll be off. Betcha kin handle those two," he said with a slight chuckle.

Harry nodded and watched as Faust left. He sighed and, composing himself, walked back into the curtains.

But then he hastily left. Remus and Sirius had already begun to make-up.

* * *

Draco was ill. He moaned as pain like daggers seeming to stab his gut hit his torso. He doubled over in his bed, begging for solace silently. Blaise and Pansy watched on, knowing they could not go get the nurse and yet, not knowing what they could do. Pansy had tried several of incantations, and Blaise had brewed a potion that normally would have easily cured stomach aches.

"Perhaps we should get Severus…" Blaise muttered nervously, ringing his hands together.

"No, remember, Draco said not to," Pansy whispered, but she too, was nervous.

"Harry…" Draco moaned, reaching up into thin air, as if he could pull his love down to him.

Pansy rushed over to the bedside, and took Draco's hand into her own; "He's on his way, Draco, I promise…"

Draco's face contorted with pain; "Nnn Harry…" he said through clenched teeth.

"Shh, shh, just rest," Pansy cooed, feeling Draco's head again. He was still cool, but the chill was coming up.

When Draco stilled and his breathing slowed, Pansy laid his hand down on the bed and rose. She went to Blaise and he embraced her. Pansy sighed and rested her head against his broad chest.

"I'm worrying, Blaise," she whispered, looking up at him.

"I am too, love," Blaise said, "But, it'll pass, trust me. Come on, let's get out of here, let him rest."

* * *

As soon as Harry and Remus apparated to the front gates, Harry felt that something was wrong. Hurriedly Remus got the gates open, then Harry sprinted towards the castle. Blindly he ran down to the dungeons, and burst into the room he shared with Draco.

"Draco!" he said, running to the bed. But he sighed when he saw that Draco was only sleeping.

Harry checked the clock on the wall, and saw that it read "1:34" in the morning. Harry looked down at Draco, brushing back stray blonde locks from the beautiful face he had longed to see. But what began to worry him was the crease on Draco's forehead, a line that did not appear unless he was frustrated or suffering from an annoyance. The equinox, Harry thought immediately.

He began to wonder why it was not affecting him yet. But his scar hurting… no, that had to do with Voldemort, surely it did. Yawning, he climbed over Draco and laid beside him, kicking off his shoes before he closed his eyes, ready for sleep.

* * *

TBC

* * *

Sorry this was so so late everyone! I'll be bookin' it to get the next chapter, please forgive me! And review please! 


	24. Change

**A/N:**

Thank-you to everyone who reviewed!

HBP spoilers, guys! Sorry but I'm tying in the sixth book now.

Disclaimer: I OWN JACK SQUAT…. sigh but not Harry Potter. Nope… Damnit.

**------24------**

Draco woke, but he did not open his eyes. He felt someone lying beside him, felt an arm wrapped around him, a chest against his crossed arms, and the occasionally feeling of breath on his neck. Opening an eye, barely, Draco saw Harry peacefully slumbering at his side. Draco smiled, amidst his abdominal and head pain. Yet, it seemed to have lessened.

Harry yawned, and for a moment Draco thought about closing his eyes and feigning sleep to see what would happen, but he just felt so at ease and watched as Harry stretched and opened his eyes. Harry turned back onto his side and stared at Draco, blinking slowly.

"'Ello, love," he whispered, kissing Draco on the forehead; "Survive while I was gone, I see…"

"Oh, ha-hah," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes; "for your information, I haven't been feeling well," he said quietly, looking dejected and hurt.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, embracing his love again; "I'm sorry I took so long, I should have been here for you…"

"You had to go," Draco said; "So, how was your trip?" he looked up at Harry curiously.

"Well, I saw Sirius, and he's okay," Harry replied; "Then, I talked with Sabet…"

"And what did our 'president' have to say?" Draco asked jokingly.

Harry chuckled and shrugged; "Not a whole lot," he replied; "Just… he said he was going to come around soon…"

"No way!" Draco gasped; "That is so asininely foolhardy it almost tops your past acts of stupidity!"

"Hey now!" Harry said; "Watch it," he said quietly, his nose touching Draco's; "Or I might have to punish you…" he whispered seductively.

"As much as I would love to, Harry, no," Draco said; "I don't feel well at all."

"Well, lucky it's a Saturday, then," Harry whispered; "I'm so tired, anyway…"

Draco rolled his eyes; "You're a mystery…"

"A mystery with aching shoulders," Harry said, twisting his back for a second. Several popping sounds replied to the action.

"_Ooh_," Draco said; "That sounded like it hurt."

Harry, having bitten his bottom lip, only nodded as he lay back down. Draco couldn't help but chuckle.

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Halloween and Thanksgiving went by without a hitch. Harry had yet to call a DA meeting since the first report of severe Death Eater attacks. Parents were taking their children out like they were about to be kidnapped, and he was focusing on his homework. Remus had been pulled from his post as DADA teacher, Dumbledore having needed him elsewhere. Since, Snape had taken the place, and a new Teacher, Slughorn, had come instead. The new Potions professor had instantly taken a liking to Harry, and had invited him to a social more than once. Harry did not like the fat, aging man, and had declined as many times as he could.

With Christmas on the horizon, and an upcoming Hogsmeade visit, Harry thought that now, before more chaos erupted, that now would be the time to act. During lunch, he decided to put his plan into action.

SO he strode over to the Gryffindor table. Seamus and Dean, who seemed to becoming steadily ostracized by their own house, nodded to Harry, and he nodded to them. He stood behind Hermione and Ron, and both turned around to look at him.

"Can we help you?" Hermione asked calmly, though she looked at Harry as if her were insignificant.

"DA, tonight, I think now is the right time," Harry said with an air of finality.

Hermione stared at him, and then slowly nodded. Turning around, she looked up and down the table, and then pulled out the infamous coin. Whispering over it, it glowed, and then began to vibrate. Harry looked around and saw many people jumping out of their seats in surprise, but sure enough, at least thirty pulled out their coins and then looked over towards Him. Harry inwardly smirked. What a night this was turning out to be.

"How about eight?" Hermione suggested, looking up at Harry again.

"Eight is perfect, Hermione," Harry said kindly; "Thank-you."

And with that he turned on his heel and walked back to his seat. Draco was off at the Ravenclaw table, talking with several people Harry knew to be sixth years, and when Draco began walking back to the table, Harry could tell the blonde had been up to mischief making.

"What are you up to, Draco?" Harry asked quietly as Draco sat down beside him.

Draco grinned mischievously as he reached for his goblet of pumpkin juice, sipping on it with a giddy air about him; "Well? Tell me!" Harry said, chuckling as he poked Draco in his side and caused Draco to stumble in his charade.

Draco coughed and pumpkin juice seemed to come out of his nose. He wiped his face with a napkin, and then looked at Harry; "I was just spreading the word about the little get together you've been planning on," he replied innocently.

Harry knew there was more to it, but he did not pry. He was about to reply, but at that moment, he heard a resoundingly loud caw fill the Great Hall. Oswarae flew in through the owl shoot, a scroll in tow. The bird flew over Harry, the scroll landed in front of his plate, and the bird mad a u-turn to grab a roll before coming back to land. As the raven pecked at the bread Harry stroked his head, and then looked at the scroll.

Very familiar handwriting depicted his name on the scroll, and Harry unrolled it eagerly.

_Dear Harry,_

_Hope you're school year has been going well. My situation is… good to where I can't complain, I'm learning a lot and I enjoy where I'm at. I miss you and Moonie, though. Sebastian thinks that there may be a chance I could visit, but the moment must be right. _

_Sending my love,_

_Padfoot_

_p.s._

_Tonight's supposed to be a memorable night. Good luck._

Harry sighed, and rolled the parchment up. Oswarae looked up from his roll at Harry, and Harry glanced at the raven. The bird hopped over and tilted his head in curiosity. Harry held the scroll open for a moment, and Oswarae clicked his beak once he had looked at it. Harry rolled it up and put it in one of his pockets.

"Well?" Draco asked.

"Tonight's supposed to be memorable," Harry replied; "and he wishes us good luck."

Draco nodded; /Do you think my mother will come as well/ he projected.

/I dunno/ Harry replied. /Sabet probably won't let her. He might think it would be safer for her, to stay in hiding.../

Draco nodded; "Seems smart," he said.

Harry nodded, then rose; "Where are you going?" Draco asked, about to rise.

"It's okay, I'm just looking around;" Harry muttered, doing as he said. His eyes found the staff table, and stared at the center.

An empty chair.

Harry sat back down; "Where is Dumbledore?" he asked.

Draco, with a confused look on his face, looked at the staff table, then back at Harry. With a mouth full of food he could only shrug, then he swallowed and said; "I don't know."

Harry looked down at the table for a moment, then over to Oswarae. The bird was picking up crumbs, but looked up at Harry. He cawed quietly, walking over (as ravens did, Harry noticed, walk, unlike most birds who hopped).

/When Dumbledore returns.../ Harry projected to the raven. /I want you to follow him. Discretely, sit outside his office if you wish. Also, he has a phoenix, so be wary of that. Okay/ He stroked the bird's sleek feathers again, and Oswarae cawed enthusiastically before flying off.

"Well, there goes the dark pigeon," Draco said under his breath, chuckling. Harry shoved him, and Draco fell back onto the floor.

Harry laughed as he helped Draco up. "Don't ever call him that," he said, though in a happy tone he hinted at a warning.

Draco nodded; "Didn't know you were that attached to the bird;" he said.

"Well, I am," Harry said; "He's a good pet and a good friend."

Draco rolled his eyes; "Whatever," Draco said; "A bird's a bird to me."

* * *

The rest of the day went by smoothly. By dinner, there was a sense of anxiety that seemed to flood the room. Many students were talking about the resurrection of the DA. Harry walked in with Draco and the Hall hushed for a bit, and then erupted with whispers. They sat at their usual places, and Harry scanned the room again. 

Still an empty chair at the staff table.

"He's probably off doing secret business," Draco said, noticing Harry's lack of focus on the conversation he was having with Blaise and Pansy; "We've got bigger matters, though, so pay attention."

Harry turned to see the three, and Pansy continued; "Anyway, I'm expecting maybe ten Slytherins, mostly fourth years. And as for Draco's rendezvous with the Ravenclaw, I think they'll show. And the Hufflepuff losers will come if they feel like stepping out of their safety zone. As for Gryffindor, well," she paused; "It's obvious that they'll show."

Harry nodded; "We're all going to have to show some power," he said; "So everyone else will know that we mean business."

Blaise cracked the knuckles of his wand hand; "Just say when, mate," he said with a devilish grin, "just say when."

Harry smirked; "That's the spirit."

* * *

Dumbledore sighed after he came through the fire of his office. Fawkes, his loyal phoenix, cooed softly, and Dumbledore walked over to pet the regal bird. 

"Ah, my friend, what a day it has been," Dumbledore said as he sat behind his desk. He began to pore over documents that had been placed on his desk.

And hour of uneventful time passed. Dumbledore was ready to go to bed when he felt a sudden chill. Looking t his window, he watched as winds rattled the panes, shook the glass, and finally, the windows flew open and Dumbledore saw the figure of a man standing on the ledge. Polished boots stepped down, followed by dark clothes and a darker cloak billowing around them. Dumbledore looked at his unexpected visitor. Porcelain skin, dark hair and amber eyes, a Romanesque nose and high cheek bones, a handsome face all around; but Dumbledore knew the face ,all too well, and it was old with memory.

"Morste," Dumbledore said, rising from his chair as secretly his hand acquired his wand; "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Put your wand down, Albus, I have never come to you hostilely;" Sabet said quietly; "I have only come to discuss my race's place in your wizard's war."

"I would hardly call it just a wizard's war," Albus said, sitting; "But please, do come and sit."

Sabet did just that, and for a moment, the two men sat down across from each other, staring at each other, sizing the other up, finding weaknesses. Then Sabet began; "How is Harry Potter, Albus?"

"He is a teenage boy, Morste, what else can be said?" Albus asked with a chuckle.

Sabet moved in his seat, his elbows resting on the arms as he held his hands together, up to his chin as he thought and analyzed; "I was merely curious," he finally replied; "I mean, I am a '_fugitive'_, I do not have time to hear the news while I am busy insuring safety for those who need it."

"Morste, I defended you during your hearing," Dumbledore said; "But even the Wizengamot would not hear of anything. You're a proven vampire, and they feel that vampires are murderers."

"But you and I both know the truth," Sabet said bitterly, looking away for a moment; "Well, this is not about me, Albus," he said after another pause; "This is about both of our futures, the children here in your hallowed school."

"Morste, if you know anything and you are being childish by not telling me—" Dumbledore began.

But Sabet held up his hand; "Albus, what I am about to tell you cannot be repeated," He said; "Tom Riddle has offered us a place in his army, and I a spot at his side when the war has ended and he has prevailed…"

"And, your answer was…?" Dumbledore asked slowly.

"No," Sabet said; "As of now, anyway. Albus, tell the Council to grant me amnesty. If I have that, I will be able to persuade so many to come to your side, to our side, and out of Voldemort's power. You do not realize how vital it would be. Albus, listen to me! I have hundreds under my care, I cannot continue hiding away from the world, I am thinking of my people and those who I care for when I ask for freedom!"

Dumbledore sighed, "Morste, I could try, and I could win you your amnesty," he said; "But the majority of the community would rather see you hanged than standing before them, preaching unity—"

"Preaching, you call it," Morste said; "Albus, you preach. Your Order Preaches. You say you are 'just saying…' Yet, whenever I come to speak, I am chased with burning torches and wooden stakes! Albus, I am an intelligent individual who has seen more than you've put in your library. Albus, there are children here that I am helping, even now. There are young men who, at sixteen, have been thrown into a world they never asked for, maybe never even wanted. There are children who must run from those they love monthly and mutilate themselves rather than the populace that would condemn them. Albus, I run a haven, and if I cannot represent it without shackles then I might as well not run it!

"But I do, I do, Albus! And now, for them, I have come here, where I know there are Ministry sons and daughters here, ready to turn me in. Please, try as hard as you can, grant me amnesty, or if that cannot be so, be my voice! You say that we are friends, that I have helped you immensely in the past. But now it is I who needs help, Albus. I and so many others..."

Dumbledore felt great sympathy for the vampire. He knew Sabet to be a strong willed and proud man, and to see him, open and almost desperate, asking for help, was nearly too much for the old wizard.

"Morste, I will gladly help you;" Albus said.

Sabet smiled slightly; "Thank-you," he said gratefully. But in the back of his mind, a plan was forming, and he mentally checked off the first thing on the list to said plan.

"But tell me, Morste, you mentioned students here who you were aiding?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, I did," Sabet replied; "But I would not tell you, for I feel that it is their right, not mine, to do so."

"Ever the righteous man," Dumbledore said, nodding; "Morste, tell me, have you ever… _met_… Tom Riddle?"

"Of course," Sabet replied; "many of times. But, not in the past few years."

"Did you notice anything he seemed to hold particularly high, for an ordinary object?"

Sabet studied the old man, tried to delve into his mind. But it became clear at what Dumbledore was getting at.

"As in one of his _Horuxes_?" Sabet asked, one eyebrow rising with knowing criticism.

Dumbledore did not acknowledge him for a moment, then he said; "How did you know?"

"Well, Albus, I too, am in search of these instruments of immortality," he explained; "I have only found two, though, a small china cup once owned by one of the founding mothers of Hogwarts, Helga Hufflepuff, and a small, broken yellow yo-yo. I found the latter to be most intriguing, but never the less, ingenious."

"Where was the yo-yo?" Dumbledore asked curiously, leaning forward slightly.

"At an orphanage I went to," Sabet replied; "I could only assume it was where Tom himself had come from."

"Your assumptions are correct, Morste," Dumbledore said; "You seem to know a lot about Tom… how?"

Sabet sighed; "Many meetings while he worked at that store in Knockturn Alley, Albus, many meetings," he replied tiresomely.

"Ah, of course," Dumbledore said; "And what were you doing there?"

"Getting goods, for potions, of course," Sabet said; "I cannot go anywhere else without being arrested;" he paused; "How else can I conjure something that can suppress a vampire's cravings when the time comes? All of my kind, that I know of, take it annually."

"What a concoction, Morste!" Dumbledore said; "It must have been a complicated mixture. When the time comes, you should discuss its contents with Severus…"

"Severus? Severus Snape?" Sabet asked; "The Death Eater?"

"No, Spy, Morste," Dumbledore corrected in a definitely teacher fashion; "He is on the Light's side, to be sure."

"Albus, I highly doubt as much," Sabet said, with a hint of anxiety; "I thought you knew better than to even think a Death Eater would be entirely separated from Voldemort!"

"Severus is faithful, Morste," Dumbledore said; "Why, just this past summer, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter themselves stayed at his home in Hogsmeade…"

"Because I had some of my people closely tracking them," Morste said; "Once, we had to obliterate the memories of Death Eaters so that they could not find the home again, or alert Snape. And what is it that you've given him your defense against the Dark Arts position as teacher? You might as well hand over those children's minds to Voldemort on a silver platter!"

"Sadly, you are not the only one to tell me this," Dumbledore said; "But I assure you, I know what I am doing."

Sabet looked at his shoes, then sighing he rose; "I do hope that you do, Albus," he said, staring at the man almost blankly; "For everyone's sakes, you had better."

He reached into a pocket in his cloak, and he brought out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, he laid it on Dumbledore's desk, and simply said; "Please get this to Harry Potter, Albus."

Albus picked up the paper and looked at it, then up at Sabet; "It's blank," he stated.

"Of course it is," Sabet said simply; "Good evening, Albus."

He walked to the window, and as he stepped onto the ledge and lifted himself out, he vanished.

* * *

Harry carefully buttoned up his shirt, after showering and redressing. He was slightly nervous about tonight, about how it would go, anyway. Draco too, seemed anxious. He was bustling around the room, doing tasks that had already been done. 

"Draco, let's go," Harry said suddenly.

"It's only seven thirty—" Draco began, but when eh turned around he saw Harry had already left. Rolling his eyes he grabbed his robes and found Harry talking with Blaise and Pansy.

"We're going in early, guys," he was saying; "Do either of you know about the _Room of Requirement_?"

"I have," Pansy said; "It becomes any kind of room you want it to be, right?"

Harry nodded; "That's where the meetings have been. When we get there though, we'll change it around a bit."

Draco rubbed his hands together; "Let's go, then," he said.

They left the Common Rooms and hurried up the stairs. When they reached the right place, Harry stood in front of apparently blank, solid wall.

"We want a place to train, to teach, to prepare. We want a place to do these things in solitude, away from the world's prying eyes," Harry thought, over and over again.

Draco, Pansy, and Blaise watched with fascination as a door materialized out of no where. Harry opened his eyes and smiled, turning to the three; "Well, ready?" he asked, hand grasping the doorknob.

The others nodded, and Harry opened the door.

They all walked into a veritable wonder land. On one side of the wall was a mountain of books, scrolls, and documents. Beside there were cabinets of potions and ingredients. There were chairs and tables, a blazing fire, and a vast space in the c enter of it all large enough to hold a hundred people with space to spare. The walls rose and rose, the ceiling was animated and showed a night sky.

"This is… _amazing_," Pansy gasped, clutching Blaise's arm as she looked around.

Blaise nodded, "Let's set up, then!" he said eagerly.

* * *

Narcissa was living well. Fully healed, she had taken to teaching some of the younger children at Sabet's mansion, in hopes that they would still have dignity in who they were. She had seven students in all, three young boys, afflicted type one lycanthropes, another boy who was a type three lycanthrope, two little girls with mothers who had been sirens, and another little boy who seemed normal to Narcissa. He had no scars, no odd physical features, only his bright, striking blue eyes. But never the less, she taught them of the outside, about transfiguration, potions, people on brooms and of course, streets where you could play. She found it sad that these children eagerly hung onto her every word, but she was affected by the feeling of being needed. 

But now, it was in the evening, the children had gone with their parents or had been sent to bed. Narcissa sat in a sitting room, just off of the main foyer. She sat in a large overstuffed chair, sipping on warm tea with brandy while she watched the fire blaze. But her calm exterior hid the exact opposite that churned within her.

Narcissa had always been exceptionally perceptive, and an amazing witch. She was very thoughtful, and it did not take her longer than a week to understand the entire workings of the home she now called her own. She had figured out where all the best books were kept, when to go to the kitchens and have ample time to cook, where to find the secret potion ingredients, where to find everything. She also knew where Sabet held his meetings, in the parlor that, when occupied, the door became a vacant wall.

The blonde witch sighed with resignation and sorrow. Oh how she missed her child. It had been months now, why had she not gone to see her baby boy? Why had he not come to see her? Perhaps it was the brandy putting thoughts into her head, but for a moment Narcissa thought to get up and leave to find her only child.

But she was struck with sober reality. She couldn't leave, no, not now. There was a price on her head, a price dolled out by death, and fulfilled by gratitude from the Dark Lord. Narcissa hated herself for conceding into that horrible group, and how she had watched her husband being driven mad by Voldemort and did nothing.

"I'm a fool," Narcissa whispered to no one in particular, a thought she said and that it was only.

"No, you're not…"

Narcissa jumped with surprise as she looked to the entrance, and saw a handsome man standing in the doorway. He had dark hair, a very lean and healthy physique, wore dark, casual clothes that brought out the wild hazel in his eyes. What was his name, Faust Ulrich?

"And how can you be sure?" Narcissa asked in a morbid, curious voice.

Faust moved over, and brought a chair with him. He sat to the side of Narcissa, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands together on his knee. Narcissa studied his body language and came to one conclusion: he was of noble decent.

"Well, madam, if we were allto call ourselves fools, who then would be our philosophers and ground breakers?"

Narcissa smirked; "A very educated opinion, no doubt," she concurred; "but still it does not reassure me…" she sighed, and looked at Faust; "So, why aren't you with all of your friends?"

"I am here, keeping watch while Sabet is on leave," Faust replied simply.

"He leaves? He has courage, for sure."

"He does what he must to keep this castle running," Faust mused; "Tell me, Narcissa, are you comfortable here? I only want the best for our guests."

"I am very comfortable, Faust," Narcissa said; "But I miss my son," she said quietly, looking down sadly.

Faust nodded; "Well, Christmas is not so far away," he said quietly.

"True," she whispered, looking at him and smiling slightly with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

They sat in silence, companionable and quaint. But soon their peace was disrupted by banging of immeasurable quantity. Faust and Narcissa rushed from the seats and to the foyer, where Faust rushed to open the front doors. Several others came down the stairs somewhat, but Narcissa waved them away.

Faust stepped outside, and a young girl fell into his arms. She was wet, and dirty, as if she had been running through the hillside during a storm. Faust sensed something about her that he could not deny nor agree upon. Picking thefragile figure up, he walked inside. He called two men over to close the doors, and laid the stranger on the tile .Narcissa bent down on the opposite side of the girl.

She had red hair, with raven colored streaks. She had fairly healthy colored skin and rosy cheeks, a frail figure and green tattered robes with a black cloak. Faust saw a white wand roll away from the girl, and Narcissa picked it up. It had a golden band around the bottom.

"I've never seen a wand like this before!" she said, holding it out to Faust.

Narcissa looked back at the girl, seeing that her eyes were barely opened. Amber, the color of fire, orbs stared at her throug hthick eyelashes. The girl seemed to smile, before closing her eyes and letting her headroll to the side.

Faust took the wand and looked at it; "I… let us focus on her first," he said distractedly; "I'll carry her to one of the Chambers. You go find Adam," he said to a random person from the crowd; "Narcissa, accompany me."

Narcissa nodded, and they went up the stairs. Faust chose to open a large oak door on the third floor and they entered a green and violet room. He went over and laid the girl on the large bed; "Uh, you may need to change her clothing," he said, turning to Narcissa.

"Okay, turn around," she said, and Faust walked over to the other side of the room before turning around.

Narcissa sighed and looked at the girl. Taking out her own wand, she waved it over the girl, and with her wand, the clothing went as well, seeming to peel away. Narcissa directed them into a neat pile on the floor, then brought her wand back up the girl's thin and frail form. Narcissa wondered if the girl had been neglected; she could count her ribs and her hip bones seemed to rise like mountains out of her body. Narcissa had never gone hungry, but she could only imagine the ache of the need for food and felt a wave of pity for the strange girl.

Finally a nightgown had been conjured and covered the girl; "Okay, Faust," Narcissa called quietly as she manually tucked the girl in. she sat on the edge of the bed, watching the girl's chest slowly rise and fall in a motherly fashion.

"Narcissa, were there any marks, signs of a struggle?" Faust asked as he crossed his arms and staring down at the girl.

Narcissa nodded; "Sings of a struggle with life," she said solemnly, then she looked up at Faust with angry eyes; "I could count out every rib, she wasn't fed!"

"We'll help her, Narcissa," Faust said, Narcissa fixing her eyes again on the girl.

Just then the door opened and Adam came in, a small box levitating behind him. "Geez, what did this poor thing go through?" he asked with shock as Narcissa and Faust backed away to give the doctor room.

Narcissa knew why he had said that. The girl's facial features were gaunt, she had dark circles under her eyes, and she was anemic as well, probably.

"Alright, Faust, open up that box," Adam instructed as he unbuttoned the first two buttons of the night gown. The girl's sternum was visible now, pale and rising, casting a grey shadow on her skin.

Faust opened up the box, and saw bandage wraps, six potions, and another smaller wooden box; "Quick, get the wooden box and get the sticks with the purple ends on them," Adam said as he conjured incense burners.

Faust obeyed and handed Adam the incense. They were lit, and Adam stretched out his hand. A vial full of clear liquid floated from the box and into his open palm. He uncorked it and poured some of the contents into his hand.

"dê outra possibilidade para esta criança, Dá outra possibilidade para esta criança…" he sang quietly, sprinkling the girl's chest, over her heart; "substitui-a cicatriza com pele de novo… Dá rasga fresco como orvalho… Traz seu de volta a seu tempo saudáve…l Todo com estes Rosemary…Tomilho da Cor da alfazema…"

He repeated it over and over. Narcissa leaned towards Faust and whispered; "What does he say?"

"give this child another chance," Faust said in time with Faust; "Give this child another chance…replace her scars with skin anew…Give her tears fresh like dew…Bring her back to her healthy time…All with these, Rosemary, Lavender and Thyme."

Narcissa nodded, biting her lip as she watched with wonder. It was more a ritual than a healing. She sensed that Adam's ancestors were gypsies, perhaps. His untraditional methods and lack of visual magic gave the theory some truth. But never the less, she couldn't help but feel as if the room had grown warmer, but her body did not feel warm. No, her _soul_ was being warmed. She wanted to sigh but she dare not even utter a sound.

Finally, Adam stopped in his chant. Very calmly he placed his hand on her head, uttered a word not even Faust could clearly catch, and then backed away. He turned to the two, and said; "Keep her warm, let the incense burn for another hour, monitor her breath. If she wakes, just tell her what happened. I'll come by in the morning. By then, she should have some muscle mass and any scars should be gone. And Narcissa," he said; "Thank-you."

"For what?" Narcissa asked perplexedly.

"I went into her mind, she remembered the love in your eyes before passing out," Adam said with a slight smile; "You know, the harsh exterior you've got still isn't strong enough to hide your eyes."

Unsure of what to say at this, Narcissa remained silent as Adam gathered his things and left.

"You know," Faust said quietly, looking at Narcissa; "He's quite correct," taking her hand in his, he kissed the top of her hand gently. Looking up, he then said; "Good evening, Narcissa."

Now stunned, Narcissa brought the hand to her chest, watching as Faust left, as well. She then looked at the girl in the bed, seeing a faint glow to her skin. Narcissa couldn't help but smile then, for a wave of happiness came over her.

* * *

"Here they come," Pansy said. 

The large door opened, and Draco, Harry, and Blaise stood still as students came in, led by Ron, Hermione, and to Harry's surprise, Cho. Harry saw that they seemed to be representatives of their houses, but he saw no familiar Hufflepuffs. /just as well/ Harry thought.

"Welcome," Harry said from his seat atop a small mountain of towering books. Gracefully he jumped down; "To the renewal of _our_ army."

"You mean _Dumbledore's_ Army," Hermione correct, standing in front of him with no fear. And she was not afraid, neither was the redhead who stood beside her. But Cho, she was a little nervous. Harry could tell.

"Can't we think for ourselves for once?" Draco moaned, rubbing his hand down his face as he glanced at the ceiling.

"Please, no fighting," Harry said, glancing at him; "I called this in an attempt to sort things out, Hermione," he said gently.

For a moment, Hermione thought she saw a small glimmer of the old Harry for a moment, but she wouldn't kid herself; "Fine, _Harry_," she said, crossing her arms.

Harry nodded, then backing up he said loudly; "Thank you all for coming!"

The chatter quieted, and Harry smirked; "First, I want to know, how many from Gryffindor have come?"

Twelve hands rose into the air. Hermione held up her hand, as did Ron, though both only did so moderately and appeared very bored.

"Thanks. And from Ravenclaw?"

Nine hands rose, including Cho's. Harry smiled at her, "Thanks. And… Hufflepuff?"

No hands came up. Harry nodded; "Okay, so that makes what, around twenty-five of us? Good. Okay, if you would all find chairs, we'll meet in a circle for something I'd like to call a Round Robin."

Harry moved over to the fire and sat down where Pansy, Blaise, and Draco had already found seats, Draco saving his a spot on a couch. The others soon moved from their spots and did the same, many transfiguring books into chairs. Soon, the scraping and scuffling had subsided, and the room fell quiet. Harry looked around, knowing it was he who was expected to speak first.

"Let me explain a Round Robin;" Harry began; "It's pretty simple. Someone throws a question out, and the floor is open. We can all comment, and then agree on an answer for this question. Then, we start up on a new one."

He waited, and silenced reigned. Then slowly, timidly, a hand rose into the air. It was a girl Harry didn't recognize, she was from Ravenclaw, though, and he didn't ponder it. When Harry nodded, the girl cleared her voice as she lowered her hand.

"Well, I, uh…" she began, looking around; "What can we expect out of this?"

"Well, what would you like to expect out of this?" Draco asked, and to Harry's vague surprise, it was not sardonic or mean. He had not talked to her as if she were stupid. No, he had just, spoken to her normally. /Perhaps I rubbed off on him a bit/ Harry thought.

The girl seemed surprised, but replied none the less; "I… I would like to learn how to protect myself."

"And to know how to protect everyone else," Seamus said suddenly. Everyone looked at him and he continued; "I want to be prepared, I want everyone to. Like it not, we've got a chance here! We could honestly have one hand over the Death Eater's eyes, over our parents'! We could learn things they wouldn't' dare teach us."

"And again, like it or not," Blaise said; "You've got us. Three children of the Dark side who know what the Light is up against."

"We know things you have in your nightmares," Pansy said solemnly, looking down.

Harry looked at her sympathetically. Why had she become so sad so quickly? He looked around at the others, who seemed to understand that the stakes were higher for the Slytherins.

"We will help each other," Harry said; "To grow, to learn, to strengthen."

"And we will be no man's army," Draco said, "But _our_ army."

"I think we should keep the name," someone, a Gryffindor Harry knew as Romilda, said timidly.

"Why?" Harry asked placidly.

"Well, Dumbledore's our… our headmaster! I think we owe it to him since we're holding illegal meetings in his school!" Romilda said.

"Can't you think outside the box?" Draco asked, standing; "Listen, I know that most of you here are loyal to that wizard, and by all means, go ahead, pledge your life to the fool. Some of us, however, have no side to pledge to. I myself am in the middle. So far, neither side could ever benefit me. I don't want to be with The Dark Lord, and I refuse to be in something called _Dumbledore's_ _Army_, when the man hasn't fought since _Grindewald_;" he paused; "I rather fight in a group with no name, for those I love and for what I believe in, then to have pledged my life to a side who might leave me in its wake, too busy to succeed and greedy for control to notice I've fallen.

"And who really wants to pledge to anything now? We're young, we're teenagers! We've got our entire lives ahead of us! The Dark Lord wants teens because we want power, we want to prove ourselves, we want to show we're strong enough, old enough, wise enough, good enough! And the Light, well, look at Harry," Draco said, "He survives something horrific, and what does he get? A poster and a drum he didn't want to march to, that's what. And personally, I like the beat of my own drum."

He turned and sat down, sighing; "Had to get that out," he said under his breath, so quietly only Harry could hear. /I'm sorry I pointed you out/ he projected, and Harry only nodded.

/I know/ he replied.

"That's all welland good, Malfoy," Ron said, standing; "But I don't have a choice, do I? Not everyone gets to stand on the middle ground like you! My dad's the Minister, for crying out loud! And think about everyone else who has a position like mine! If our parents are in the Ministry, _we're_ in the ministry." He finished by sitting down, his forceful last statement ringing in the air.

"Don't you get it?" Harry asked, standing. He was annoyed at his past friend's ignorance; "You're not Arthur, you're not Percy, or Bill, or Charlie, or Fred and George,you're _Ron_! You have your own mind, your own heart, your own blood and your own skin you can call _yours_! You'll be seventeen before you know it, Ron, and then what? Will you follow at your father's heels, or will you…" his voice trailed off when he realized how close he had gotten. Ron had risen as well, and now they stood eye to eye. Harry was surprised to see he could lock eyes with Ron; "Well?" Harry asked quietly, "What will you do then, Ron? What will any of you do?"

He stared at the redhead in silence, and Ron stared back.

"Well?" Harry asked again, backing away; "I don't want to fight with you, Ron, and I don't want to see another person get sucked into a war that has only just begun."

* * *

**TBC

* * *

**

Well, I am on a roll here! I typed this chapter up so fast! Writer's Block is officially gone! Whoo!


	25. Titles

**A/N:**

Thank-you to everyone who reviewed!

I might star tying in the sixth book now… you all have been warned.

Disclaimer: I OWN JACK SQUAT…. sigh but not Harry Potter. Nope… Damnit.

**------25------**

He stared at the redhead in silence, and Ron stared back.

"Well?" Harry asked again, backing away; "I don't want to fight with you, Ron, and I don't want to see another person get sucked into a war that has only just begun."

Ron looked down; "Harry, you know my parents," he said desperately, looking up; "And there are a lot like them."

"Ron, you have to fly from the nest sometime;" Harry said; "We all do," he said, looking around; "Now, I don't know what the age range is in here, but I will say this. I asked you all to come not so you could get help on exams, or practice spells without teachers knowing. No, I asked you to come here, willing to train. I don't want people dying, and I think education is a way around that. But also, I think maturity is needed as well. You have to understand the stakes and the risk. So please, if you do not want to prepare for bloodshed and death, you had best leave. I can't promise a cute, padded experience. War is hell, pure and simple. And we're all up against the toughest demons. So please, if you are not sure…"

His voice trailed off. Two people got up, from Ravenclaw, then two more, from Gryffindor. They began to head for the door, saying quiet good-byes to those they had come with. Hermione held up a hand and got up, rushing over to the four and holding a whispered conversation. Harry picked up on it clearly.

"Are you all sure you will not be able to contend with this?" Hermione asked gently.

"No," one of the girls said, a quiver to her voice; "I… no, I can't handle stuff like this."

Hermione sighed and nodded; "I must know that you will not breathe a word of what goes on here, may I cast a simple charm?"

"Wait! What'll happen if we tell?" a boy asked cautiously.

"Horrible acne and you'll start barfing slugs," Hermione said simply with a slight shrug.

Harry withheld a snort, and he heard Draco chuckle quietly behind his hand. So he had heard as well.

Harry watched as the four complied, and Hermione waved her wand and muttered a quick incantation, and for a second, the four looked pale and green with a sickness that suddenly claimed them. But as soon as it happened, they were back to normal and they departed. Hermione returned to the circle, a small smile on her face and a single nod to illustrate that she was finished. And for a time, awkward, tense silence clung to the air.

"They were in the forth year," Cho said uncomfortably, catching Harry's attention.

"So were the other two," Hermione said, averting her gaze.

"So, it's safe to say everyone here is fifteen and up?" Harry asked, and he was returned with nods. Harry nodded, then sat back down; "Well, does anyone have anymore questions?"

"Yes, I do," Dean said; "Will we be learning any dark magic?"

Harry shrugged; "Depends on what dark magic you're referring to," Blaise said quietly.

"Yes, there might be some," Draco replied, staring directly at the Gryffindor; "Why? Surprised?"

"A little," Dean said, sinking into his seat.

"Dark magic? Harry, seriously?" Cho asked worriedly.

Again, Harry shrugged; "Sometimes doing what's right mean doing what's wrong."

"To catch snakes you must slither like them," Draco added wisely.

Hermione nodded; "He's right," she said, looking at her fellow Housemates, "They wouldn't expect that."

"We can't have one foot on each side!" a seventh year boy said.

"Welcome to my world," Draco muttered darkly, and Harry laid a hand on his arm reassuringly.

"You can," Blaise said; "How do you think we've managed to survive this long?" he held Pansy's hand; "Middle ground's all that's safe. The divide can't be _that_ wide."

"What will Dumbledore think?"

All eyes turned to Ginny, who had whispered the question. She looked up; "Well, what _will_ he think?"

"Wake up, Ginny," Pansy said; "Them man's hardly been around. We're probably the least of his worries. He's too busy organizing the world against the Dark Lord. That's why we should give this group a new name."

"Well, what do you suggest?" Seamus asked.

"Nothing," Pansy said; "No name at all. A nameless organization cannot be tracked, or caught. If you are in a group that has no name, who's to accuse you of being in any group at all?"

Her words brought profound realization to the group. Harry looked at her with admiration, so did Draco and Blaise. Hermione regarded her with respect, though she tried not to show it.

"Well then, all in favor of this statement raise your hands," Harry said, raising his hand up slightly.

Slowly, Draco did the same. Blaise and Pansy followed. They waited, poised, and then Hermione raised her hand as well. The other Gryffindors followed, and then the Ravenclaws did as well. Harry couldn't help as he smirked and stood, hands folded behind his back.

"Well then, I propose that the meeting be adjourned?" he asked, looking around.

"Wait!" Hermione said, drawing out a piece of parchment from her robes; "Everyone here must sign this!"

As she began reading out the writing, Harry recognized it as the Contract from the previous year. Others did, as well, and Harry saw that their signatures were still present, including his own. He sat up as, while she walked around, Hermione passed him. He sensed a wave of what, empathy? Perhaps she was finally starting to feel the pressure that he had been dealing with?

"Now, I see that many of you have returned form the previous year," Hermione said once finishing; "Your signatures are still present.

Steadily the others rose, and Harry nodded; "See you all when the coin calls."

Harry and Draco watched as the others left through the door. Pansy and Blaise left as well, groping at each other, giggling, and whispering as they did. But one person stayed behind, and walked over to the two, or more so, Harry.

Harry looked down at Hermione, as she was still a tiny five-foot-three. But she stared fiercely up at him, never breaking eye contact, and he felt at level with her, perhaps smaller. The old feeling of her being smarter, better, wiser, and worthy of friendship was slowly returning. He hated to admit that.

"Tell me there's still some lion left in you," she said quietly; "Tell me the boy who used to laugh with me is still in _there_," she poked his chest none too gently.

"I…" Harry began, but for the first time in months, he was at a loss for words, "I…" he sighed; "There's a chance."

Hermione nodded; "Until the coin calls, then," she said, and then turning on her heel, she left the room.

For a moment, the two vampires stood in silence; "What was that about?" Draco asked, looking at Harry.

Harry's shoulders slumped; "She knows more about it than me, I'm afraid," he replied; "Come on; let's get back to the room before Filch comes by."

"You know, some day you're going to let all of your walls down and I will understand this thing you call life," Draco said as he took Harry's hand and they departed together.

"Harry," Draco said quietly; "You're not starting to trust the mudblood again, are you?"

"To be honest, I don't know," Harry replied; "I mean, I've been thinking, was it their choice, to deceive me the way they did?"

Draco looked at Harry; "Like it or not, they did, Harry," he said; "I mean, this could be another trick, to lure you back to the Order!"

"_Please_," Harry said, shrugging the idea off.

"I'm serious," Draco insisted; "Dumbledore is reeling over the fact that his precious little boy wonder is no longer under his wings!"

"You're paranoid," Harry said as they made their decent down into the dungeons.

"Am I?" Draco retorted; "Harry, I'm worrying about you. I can't understand what's going on in your mind so badly that I've stopped trying to figure it out. I love you, but damnit where are you?"

Harry stopped, staring at the blonde. Draco took another step, whipped around, and faced his lover with a gaze so serious; Harry had to remember that the gray orbs were Draco's.

"Harry, please, tell me what side you're on. Ours, or theirs?" he was referring to the Order.

"Ours, why would you doubt that?" Harry asked, pulling his hand from Draco's

"I need to hear it form you, Harry," Draco said, "Don't you realize how giant the step was tonight? How much we've just risked?"

"No, Draco, I was just doing this for shits and giggles!" Harry snapped, glaring.

"Don't snap at me!" Draco shot back; "What's the matter with you? It's like you're not Harry anymore!"

"You just don't understand, Draco!" Harry said, sighing; "It'll pass, I swear on my death."

"Which isn't a safe thing to swear on," Draco muttered, but Harry ignored the comment.

"Look, can we forget about this argument, please?" Harry asked; "I'd much rather prefer sleeping _beside_ you than being put out on the couch…"

- - -

Draco and Harry reached their quarters in silence. While Harry headed for the bedroom, Draco instead sat down on the sofa, lying down and taking a pillow into his arms and tucked it under his head. Harry paused, and looked back. Draco reached out, spread his fingers out and waved. A fire came to life behind the hearth, and Draco's hand once more was tucked beneath the pillow.

Harry walked over, hands bracing against the back of the couch as he leaned down and brushed Draco's bangs from his face so that he could gently kiss his temple.

"Normally the offender sleeps on the couch," he said lowly, chuckling.

Draco looked up at him and smiled slightly; "I'll be in bed in a second," he said quietly, then he turned his attention to the flames; "I just need to think for a while."

"Okay," Harry said; "I'll have the bed pulled down for you, then?" Draco nodded, and Harry smiled; "Love you."

"Love you too," Draco muttered, and he listened as Harry walked away and went into the bedroom.

The door slowly closed, and Draco slowly sighed. He watched the flames dance for over an hour, in empty thought, before he finally sat up. For a moment, he took time to look at his pale hands, artist's hand, yet calloused on the palms and fingertips from Quidditch. Draco hung his head as his hand reached back and pulled a folded parchment from his pocket. He held it in his hands, flipping it over, examining it with intent curiosity.

It seemed normal, it was normal, in a sense. The ink that had stained his name upon the paper was normal quill ink. It was folded like any other letter. But Draco reflected back to the earlier morning, when it had been delivered. He had been contemplating in solitude in a clearing, when the family falcon descended upon him with the silence of a skilled predator. But instead of attacking Draco, the bird merely left a small scroll, the scroll Draco now held in his hands and had caught with anxious bewilderment.

He unrolled the paper, and carefully read the letter again, the scrawled, jagged but elegant handwriting painfully clear in his memory…

_Draco,_

_Hogshead. _

_Eleven o'clock. _

_Be there.You will know where to go._

So simply written, so quickly thought. Draco wondered for a moment if he should go. He looked at the clock. It was ten o'clock now. If he walked, he would reach Hogsmeade too late, but if he flew… Draco sighed and rose, crumbling the parchment in his fist. He glared at the fire for no reason, an outlet for his frustration. Should he go? The question repeated over and over again. Draco was growing confused, and over three simple little words…

A clicking sound seemed to explode in the silence and Draco whipped around. Oswarae perched on the edge of a bookcase, where Draco saw he had built a small nest of fabrics and herbs. Draco rolled his eyes.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

Orswarae's head tilted to the side as a glimmer in his eyes suggested that if he could smirk, he would have. /Oswarae sensed… unwanted emotions…/

The raspy voice filled Draco's head and he groaned, turning his back to the raven; "I really don't need your input right now," he ground out, teeth clinched.

/But the Master does have questions Oswarae can answer/ the bird flew from his perch and landed on Draco's shoulder. /Go, see your father/

"Why would you think that it was my father?" Draco asked, trying to stay calm. The bird's eerie ability to know what he shouldn't was unnerving. But if Oswarae knew that, he would be even more pompous.

/You are very obvious. The Master expresses himself in his eyes/ Oswarae commented. /So… will the Master go/

Draco thought for a moment; "Yes, I suppose I will," Draco mused with resolution, not wanting to admit it; "Don't tell Harry, got it?" he suddenly snapped, tapping the bird's beak.

Oswarae cawed quietly, nodded, and then flew off to his perch. Draco sighed and decided to sneak into the bedroom. He crept across the floor and found Harry's trunk. Opening it slowly, freezing whenever the hinges creaked, he finally revealed the contents of the trunk. He sifted through clothing, and couldn't help but let out a triumphant "aha" when he found his query.

Harry rolled over in a fit of slumber, and Draco hit the floor, clutching the invisibility cloak to his chest. He smirked as his love muttered "buttered toffees" before rolling over again. After a few moments or so of waiting, Draco finally got up and left the bedroom, but not before kissing Harry on the side of the cheek.

Draco walked out of the bedroom, and put on his cloak. He glanced up, and saw Oswarae settled in his nest, one beady eye locked on the blonde. Draco bowed his head, rethinking the strategy he would have to remake on the way to Hogsmeade. Sighing, he raised his head, and left.

- - -

The streets of Hogsmeade were virtually empty, the flickering of lamps being the only source of movements, aside from the shadows they cast. Draco made his way silently down the street, ducking into an alley way to take the invisibility cloak off. He suddenly realized just how cold the night was, and pulled the trench-coat like robes he wore ever closer to his body. Getting back onto the sidewalk he found the Hogshead, and entered.

It was empty, save for one old man sitting at the bar and the bartender, who eyed Draco with suspicion.

"Old guy wanted to talk to you, upstairs in room four," the bartender barked gruffly, and Draco merely shot him a look.

Draco mounted the stairs, creaky and decaying, and found the door with a rusty number 4 on it. With a slow exhale of breath, his hand reached for the doorknob, and opened the door. It slid over the dusty wood and groaned with old age, and Draco saw a well-furnished room with a blazing fire.

Off to the side, looking out a window stood the silhouette of a man. Draco stepped forward and the door closed behind him. Looking around he caught the form of another man sitting in a chair, facing the fire. The light bounced off of gaunt bones and pale hair made Draco hold his breath. The man he had grown up hating now appeared so weak, so fragile. But who was at the window? Well, who else could it be…

"Severus…" Draco said slowly, and the figure at the window turned.

"Yes?" He asked, deadly calm.

Draco took a step back. Lucius rose from his chair, turning with a grim look on his face. He was not pleased at how his son had changed in his absence. The long hair, his fraternizing with Potter... he wanted to curse the boy onthe spot, but better judgement told him otherwise.

"Boy, what have you done to your hair?" he asked snidely.

"Let it grow," Draco retorted. He looked at Severus; "What is the meaning of this? Sev…"

"Draco, you know what side I am on," Snape said wearily; "You've _known_…"

"And he is here with me so I will make sure you listen to me," Lucius said; "Draco, The Dark Lord wants you to join our ranks…"

"What?" No, I want no part of this war," Draco said firmly, his hands clenching into fists. He knew he was being cornered by the way both men were slowly advancing on him.

"Draco, you have had a part in this warsince the day you were born," his father seethed; "And I know what you have going on with Potter. Severus has informed me on many things…"

Draco looked at Snape; "I trusted you," he whispered, laden with the pain ofbetrayal.

Snape sighed; "It is all for the best, Draco, in the end, it is all for the best…"

"What is best for me is for me to decide!" Draco shouted.

"Not while you are still sixteen, it's not!" Lucius yelled, bearing down on Draco like a bear would a camper.

"I am a man now, Lucius!" Draco said with great animosity, but upon the lack of his father's title, he was silent.

Now Lucius was thoroughly and royally perturbed. His face was a beat red, as was his neck; "I AM YOUR FATHER AND YOU WILL CALL ME BY MY PROPER TITLE!" he roared. "AND YOU ARE NO MORE A MAN THAN A ROSE IS A WEED! YOU WILL NEVER BE A MAN, YOU COWARDLY…"

As the insults rained down upon him, Draco couldn't help but shrink back against the wall, childhood memories flooding his mind. But he remembered how it felt, and he became angry. Draco shoved his father away from him. Caught off guard, Lucius stumbled back, and Snape went to aid him.

"You impudent, loathsome, ungrateful bastard child!" Lucius roared, his face turning red.

"Lucius, control yourself!" Snape warned.

Draco walked forward, shoving Snape away so he could shove his father again; "how does it feel?" he asked, shoving again; "How. Does. IT. FEEL!"

Lucius let out a sound like a growl, and Draco felt himself flying backward, his cheekbone aching at the sudden, unanticipated action. Draco collided with the wall and slid to the ground, groaning.

"That will teach you," Lucius said, "You will respect me. Now, get up."

Draco looked at Lucius with as much hate as he could, though his eyes showed only a small fraction of the anger he harbored. Slowly, he rose, appearing weary and beaten. Lucius stepped forward, then Draco snapped. Every ounce of pent-up emotion was freed in a single moment, and Lucius' eyes were wide with surprise and horror.

Draco punched so hard that magic burst form his hand and his father screamed as he was slammed through the wall, and fell two stories down, a thud admitting the end to his descent. Draco looked down with grim satisfaction. He had waited all his life to do such a thing as what he had. Leaning back, he looked at Snape, who was staring at him.

"He is right, I have a part in the war," Draco said; "But in no way does it involve me getting branded."

"Draco…" Snape began, but Draco held his hand up.

"Mess with me, Severus, and what little respect for you I have is gone," Draco said in the same, deadly calm tone Snape spoke with; "We are through here."

And with that, he left the room.

- - -

Narcissa watched the young girl intently, worriedly. She slowly patted a wet cloth across her brow, an attempt to keep a fever down. It had been several hours since she had arrived and still there was no sign of life. Adam was at a loss as to what was wrong. He could only figure that it was shock, and that shock had placed the girl in a coma. Sabet had returned and found it odd how no one had noticed the child's differences, but rather than tell anyone what the differences were, he remained silent instead, saying that she would be the one to tell them.

Faust visited as well. He brought food and wine, and a chess board. He and Narcissa quietly rendezvoused by the large bay windows, still close to the child should she wake.

"What do you believe she is?" Faust asked that evening, while he moved a pawn physically to knock over one of Narcissa's.

"Come again?" she asked, using her knight to take out the pawn.

"You mean, you do not sense a difference in the girl?" Faust asked; "Her entire being screams bizarre…"

Narcissa nodded. She had detected an odd sense of magic from the child, but in her motherly watch she had dismissed it. "She may just be powerful," she said quietly.

"Or maybe she is not just a witch, but something else," Faust said.

Narcissa looked at him; "What, a veela?" she asked sarcastically, snorting in her laughter.

Faust smirked and shook his head; "No," he said; "Perhaps she is a… _banshee_, or even an _elf_."

"Oh please, Faust, do be rational!" Narcissa said; "Elves are supposedly gone, erased from existence."

"Aye, but who told you that? Your history books? Your Ministry?"

"Well…"

Faust nodded; "Elves are not extinct. They are hidden. Powerful magic. Their realms and homes are hidden from us."

Narcissa held her jaw from falling to the floor, choosing to lean her palm against it as her elbow leaned against the table; "Really? And how would you know?"

Faust smiled; "My mother was one," he said simply.

Narcissa's eyes widened; "Really?" she asked.

Faust nodded; "Because of that, I age normally," he said with a hit of regret; "But, it does not stop me."

"Tell me about your mother," Narcissa said; "Is it true that elves can heal just by using their hands?"

"Ah, maybe with an incantation as well," Faust said; "See, Elves have no real need for wands once they reach adulthood. My mother was so good at magic; she hardly needed to think to perform a task."

"And… where is your mother now?"

Faust sighed; "On a hillside in Italy," he said quietly, idly turning the queen piece; "She died in '83…"

Narcissa was not sure which '83 Faust was referring to. She opted for 1983, and remembered how a hold-out of rebels of the Ministry had been found, and seven had tied in the battle. Yes, there were others besides the Dark Lord who wanted the Ministry's ways to change. Elves were one group. But she had always thought that the hold-out was the final strain of Elfin blood.

"Oh…" Narcissa said; "I'm sorry, Faust…"

"Yes, well," Faust smiled; "She died with honor."

Narcissa was quiet, knowing that the conversation was through. They continued to play their game of chess, and hence the sun spindled downward to close out the day. She eventually opted for a nap, but was startled awake when she heard a scream. She looked to the bed and her eyes met bright, fiery amber ones. The fire was filled with fear, and anxiety… and anger…

The girl was awake.

At once Narcissa was on her feet, and the girl screamed a quiet gasp again, backing up and clutching the headboard, curling up in a protective ball.

"Hello?" Narcissa asked calmly, quietly, walking over to the bed. She sat down on the edge, reaching over and about to touch the girl, but she shied away so Narcissa drew her hand back to rest in her lap; "Ciao?" she asked in Italian.

The girl looked at her. "Do you speak Italian?" Narcissa asked, and the girl nodded, relaxing a little. Narcissa smiled; "I mean no harm."

"How can I be sure?" the girl asked, shaky in her defiance.

Narcissa smirked; "I've kept you alive, haven't I?" she asked.

The girl turned her gaze away, bitterly muttering; "To you, life is nothing…"

"Come again?" Narcissa asked, uneasy and wary.

The girl looked at her; "To you, life is nothing," she said louder.

"Life is cherished in my House, child," Narcissa said; "why ever would you say that?"

The girl looked away again. After a time of silence, Narcissa sighed; "Forgive my rudeness," she said; "I am Narcissa. And you are…?"

The girl looked at her, silence reigning again as fiery amber eyes looked her over, rewarding her body language, her posture, how her face showed her emotion. "You are good at hiding your feelings," the girl commented.

"You didn't answer my question," Narcissa retorted, unmoved.

The girl sighed; "They call me Aideen…"

Narcissa smiled; "I am glad we met," she said; "Would you like a bath, some food, perhaps? You must be hungry."

"Where am I?" Aideen asked.

"Hmm," Narcissa said, rising and walking over to the window. She pulled back a curtain to watch the sun setting over the mountains, then replied; "Somewhere in the French Alps, I can safely tell you," she said simply, and she looked back to see Aideen's shocked expression. "What?"

"You don't know where we are?" Aideen asked, crawling up against the headboard again.

"Oh, relax, would you?" Narcissa said exasperatedly; "It's a protected site, unmappable, untraceable, and invisible unless you are granted to see it…"

Aideen nodded; "So… how about that bath you offered?"

- - -

Draco stormed into his quarters, throwing the invisibility cloak off of him in a rush, and kicking the bedroom door open without a second thought. Harry woke up and was instantly sitting up, but Draco was atop him in a moment, eyes gleaming in the dark.

"Draco, what the…" Harry began, but a kiss stopped the youth form continuing.

Draco parted, staring at Harry; "We make love, we fool around," he said in a hushed whisper; "But tonight, I want to fuck."

"Well, this is hott…" Harry began, but was cut off again as Draco had his way with him.

****

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TBC

* * *

please review! 


	26. Before the Storm

**A/N: **

Hello, all! So sorry this was so late, had bit of a life as of late. Well none of you need to know what happened, just that I'm back!

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!

**------26------**

The sun filtered through the green curtains, giving the room a vague ambiance. Harry woke to the filtered light, yawning. Looking to his side he saw Draco sleeping soundly, huddled close to Harry with one arm around Harry's waist, though loosely. Every moment or so, his eyebrow would twitch, a low sound would come form his chest, he would move slightly…

Draco was dreaming. And it did not seem pleasant.

Harry's loving amusement soon grew to concern. What was Draco dreaming about? And… what had happened last night? Well, last night was wonderful; for once Harry hadn't minded being the catcher at all. But before… Had Draco gone out to meet someone? There was a small purplish bruise on Draco's cheek. Harry hadn't noticed it until now. Last night, it was due to the light, but he should have noticed it earlier.

Harry, though troubled, contented himself with watching his lover .Slowly, Draco woke, opening one eye slightly and grimacing as he yawned. Lying flat on his back, he then looked back up at Harry.

"Were you watching me again?" he asked quietly, nonchalantly, as if it was a surprise but not surprising enough for a great showing of emotion.

Harry nodded and smiled slightly, but it soon faded from his features; "Draco," he said, looking down; "What did you do last night? Where did you go?" emerald rose to meet sterling blue.

"I uh… merely stepped out, was all," Draco said, rolling over.

Harry leaned over him, kissing his cheek; "Please don't lie," he said; "I'll find out eventually." Another delicate peck and Draco was telling him.

* * *

Amos slowly came to wakefulness, aware of the sunlight penetrating his eyelids. Yawning he attempted to stretch his arm, only to find Morgan was laying atop it, snoring quietly. Amos smiled, and gently slid out from under her. He sat up and stretched, scratching his head and tossing his hair before yawning again.

_Ah, mon confidant! You are awake! Wonderful! _

Faust's excited, booming voice filled Amos's head and he groaned, falling back onto the bed and rubbing his eyes.

_Morning, Faust…_ Amos groaned in reply.

_Ooh my friend I have plans, wonderful plans! Tonight I plan on surprising my woman of interest with a wonderful evening on the town. Care to join?_

_I suppose…_ Amos said… _What time?_

_Ah… around seven thirty? That is the plan I'm working for._

_Fine. See you._

_See you!_

Rubbing his eyes again, Amos rose, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as he did. Morgan rolled over and watched as her lover stood, and grinned as she reached out and pinched bare flesh. Amos yelped and whipped around, pouting.

"I thought you liked me," he said sadly, and Morgan giggled as she got up.

"I couldn't resist," she said simply; "So… who were you talking to?"

"Talking? I wasn't," Amos said innocently.

"Oh, yes you were. Why else would you have pulled such a dramatic stunt?" one elegant eyebrow rose skeptically. She knew.

"Uh… just to Faust," Amos said; "Where're you going?"

"Oh, just to take a shower," Morgan asked as she grabbed her things; "Care to join?"

Like a faithful puppy, Amos followed.

* * *

"And… the in…infantry… _sllllllowly_ moved for'ard…"

"_Forward_…"

"_Forward_… not knowing that there was…"

The sun shown through the stained glass, painting the open and vast room in aqua's and gold's and shades of rose. Dust danced in the faded rainbow, swirling with the circulation of air. The library was quiet and serene, having only two occupants within its crammed expanse.

Aideen sighed in frustration, listening as Sabet slowly read a line in the text in front of them both. Over the past month she had been regaining her strength and adjusting to the daily routine of being a witch, a routine she was foreign to. Sabet had also tried teaching her simple spells while using a wand. Once again, Aideen another strange routine. Aideen had never channeled her magic through a bewitched stick before, and she was still uncomfortable using it. Her main output of magic consisted of orbs that she used as defense.

And then there was the learning of English. Aideen hated to sit down for long periods of time, she just couldn't stand it. She also hated the dusty confines of the library. There was so little going on within the castle; everything good and fun and pure was outside. Aideen felt weak, and drained without the unfiltered light of the sun on her skin. She had grown up in the forest, she was connected to it, there was no denying.

"Aideen? _Aideeeeen_…" Sabet said, grabbing his pupil's attention; "Did you hear me?"

"Hmmm? No, Morste, I did not," Aideen said slowly, focusing again on the book.

Sabet rolled his eyes; "Perhaps now is not the best time to daydream?" he asked, though it was more command than statement.

"But Morste, this is boring!" Aideen whined; "Can I go outside?"

Sabet chuckled dryly; "Actually, there is something I would like for you to see…" he mused, closing the book.

Sabet rose, the book floating off to its place, and Aideen hastened to follow. They left the library, passed several residents along the way. The great doors of the foyer opened for them to reveal a flourishing winter world. Snow had recently fallen on the ground, the trees now having some sparkling life on their barren branches. The garden remained alive and strong, thanks to helpful charms and potions. Small children built snowmen and threw snowballs, their mothers laughed and watched as they chatted with one another. A training session was being held by the south wall…

But Sabet led Aideen through a side gate she didn't know existed. In a breath they were out of the safe confines of the castle, walking down an overgrown path. Sabet ignored the wayward roots and plants; they seemed to move for him, part ways for his safe passage. Aideen watched this happening in awe; how could a man hold such power that plants would hold reverence for him? Surely Sabet was more than just a wizard, and a vampire…

The trek continued past empty fields, a slow stream, and then, the line of the forest. They were soon sheltered by the low-hanging branches of trees that stretched up to touch the sky. Looking up, Aideen caught the blue and sun only in patches. Limbs of the trees seemed to reach out and grab at her clothing. Pulling everything closer, she stuck even closer to Sabet.

The vampire chanced a glance back at his now surrogate daughter and quietly laughed to himself. The life of a parent had been a bitter life for him, and Aideen was no exception to the stress and strain of raising a fledgling again. At first he allowed Narcissa to educate the young woman, but had slowly begun teaching Aideen on the sly, and that gradually took up the day and Narcissa forfeited, saying something along the lines of "I've a child, anyway. What would I want with another?" Or something to that. Sabet had let it slide, as he most always did.

"Morste, where are we going?" Aideen asked quietly.

"It's a surprise," Sabet said, slowing so that he could walk side by side with her.

"Oh," Aideen said; "Well, can you tell me where we're going?"

Sabet laughed quietly; "I could, but then it wouldn't be a surprise!"

"Oh," that plaintive little sound was heard and Aideen was quiet.

Had she never known what a surprise was? Sabet wondered vaguely. There was so much that this girl could teach Sabet and the others, but there was so much more they could teach her. Her life was deprived and aged for her short time on earth. Sabet feared that her childhood was lost. Never the less, what he was about to show her was something most adults could not handle being near. He decided now was not to worry about abandoned doll houses and forgotten playtimes.

Aideen stopped for a moment as the smell of sulfur reached her nose. But she continued to keep pace, all the while sticking close to Sabet's side. Suddenly her nerves were strained and her attention was focused on the world around her. The Vampire was hiding something from her, and she did not like it. Soon the sound of falling water reached her ears, the chirruping of birds… they were getting closer and closer to life. The sounds renewed Aideen's spirit, and she allowed a small smile to shine within her. Perhaps this "surprise" was not as bad as she was dreading it to be.

They rounded the corner, and came upon a clearing. It was large, a good three acres, but still it managed to be shaded mostly by the great trees encircling it. There was a small stable, and an arena. There was also a fence that disappeared into the undergrowth. Aideen heard the footfall of hooves, the snorts of horses and the shy whinnies. She caught a white blur rush by the path she walked. What was in the forest?

"Rarities of the equine nature," Sabet said nonchalantly; "We're trying to reestablish a species of horse. They're quite intelligent and useful, given the fact they like you and offer their services. But what I want you to see is round yonder bend…" a long, thin hand motioned for the path ahead, quickly trading dirt for stone. "If necessary, I will follow you."

Aideen blinked, but when she turned to her side, Sabet had gone with the wind. Looking down with a glare, she then held her head up and began the walk up the path, rounding the bend in a hurry. After a minute or so, the sound of rushing water grew louder and louder, as did the smell of sulfur and steam. Now she was growing nervous, anxious and was beginning to fight her urge to simply retreat.

And then she came upon the waterfall and pool. It was a beautiful scene, but eerily unforgiving. Aideen took in everything she could, taking a step back. She finally concluded that the smell of sulfur was coming from that large crimson-violet rock…_wait a second_…

It was a dragon, not a rock. Gracefully it rose; it's deep, onyx eyes boring into Aideen's. It was slender, sleek and lean, built for speed and judging by it folded wings, for flying. A female, it had two brownish black horns pointed back on the back of its head, towards the top. Its snout was long and elegant, sharp teeth poking out between the lips. Her scales were crimson and violet, a beautiful mix. Shiny talons/claws same shade of the horns glistened in the patching light. A long tail swished back and forth against the stones, two spikes raking into the rocks and eliciting light scratching noises. The dragon was small, slightly taller than a Clydesdale, perhaps.

The dragon snorted, blowing steam from her nostrils. Aideen grimaced as the scent of sulfur was refreshed; it was making her sick to her stomach. Slowly she backed away, but the dragon only walked closer, intrigued. No doubt it could smell Aideen's anxiety. She stumbled back again, and the dragon advanced again. Aideen turned and ran down the path. She reached the clearing before a shadow was cast over the ground and she froze. There was a crash some feet away, in the forest, and several horses whinnied in fright. Soon after, the dragon came lumbering out of the forest, shaking a stray branch from her horns and letting out a coo-like call, directed at Aideen.

"What do you want?" Aideen asked, firm despite her uncertainty.

Again, the dragon cooed and approached Aideen, her head coming up and sniffing Aideen's hair. Her muzzle then went for the pocket on Aideen's skirt, sniffing and rooting, as if for something she thought was already there.

"I have nothing," Aideen said.

The dragon looked up at her and made a disgruntled sound, a rumble from her throat. She was very vocal and curious, but quick to forgive and forget. The dragon turned her head and looked at the stable, then trotted over to it, her claws leaving lasting marks in the ground. Aideen shook her head, worry forgotten as she crossed her arms and watched the dragon circle small stable, and then stand before the gate that served as a door. With a snort, the dragon took the latch between her teeth, and opened the gate. She went in, and, curious, Aideen moved closer to watch.

But before she took thee steps the dragon was out again, a leather ball between its jaws. Happily she set the ball down, and turning, swatted it with her tail. The ball went soaring, but landed and rolled to Aideen's feet. Looking at it for a moment, Aideen picked the ball up and looked at it. The dragon let out a distressed call and quickly Aideen placed the ball on the ground. The dragon looked at her expectantly, but Aideen did nothing. The dragon repeated the swatting action, and the simple game clicked in Aideen head. She kicked the ball and the Dragon swatted it back, happy to have a playmate. Aideen smiled and entertained the creature, content herself.

They carried on like that for a time. Aideen was catching the ball when she sensed another presence. Whipping around she faced the path and watched for any on comers. She could hear whistling, and soon she saw the figure of a young man, a person a little older than she. He was tall, with wavy sandy brown hair that hung around his face and flipped carelessly about. He wore simple clothing, and was hauling a pig across his shoulders, a live one. With its feet tied it squealed and caused a horrible noise, thrashing and squirming to no avail. The young man had a firm grip around the pig's ankles, and ignored it's distress.

The dragon cooed softly and walked over, and the stranger looked up and smiled. Letting go of the pig for a spare moment, he stroked the dragon's strong neck, and then headed for the arena. Freeing the pig he placed it there, and it ran around, squealing and snorting as it tried to escape. The dragon leapt over the fencing and began to stalk the pig, acting out on primal, instinctive hunting tactics long ago wired into her brain.

Aideen watched the stranger, perplexed. She had seen him several times before, but never for more than a glance. Now he looked at her and smiled shyly. In return she smiled shyly in return. Looking around, the boy then walked over to her.

"Hi," Aideen said quietly.

The boy only smiled, and it confused Aideen. Couldn't he talk? But then, to answer her question, a calm, soothing voice filled her head, like a thought.

_**Hello…**_

Had it come from the boy? Aideen's eyes went wide, and she stared at the boy. His smile only grew. **_I'm Evan…_** another thought, not her own. Then it clicked. It was a projection. The boy, no, young man, was talking to her through the process of telepathy. It was feat she had only read about. Aideen eased up, and smiled again.

"I'm Aideen," she replied; "So… you tend to her?" she motioned to the dragon, who was quietly guarding her freshly killed meal.

**_Sometimes…_** Evan replied. **_You've never been around here before… did Morste send you?_**

Aideen looked up with a lighthearted laugh; "More like _left_ me," she said, looking at Evan again.

He chuckled. **_Everything is everything for a reason_**, he said.

Aideen rolled her eyes; "Sure it is," she looked down for a moment again, and then at the dragon; "So… how old is she?"

**_Vesta? Almost four years old, I think_**, Evan replied, looking at the dragon as well_. **She was brought here around two months ago…**_ he looked at Aideen again; **_Why, did she frighten you?_**

"No, no!" Aideen said, "I just… wanted to know a little bit about her is all… she's rather playful."

**_She's still a baby, really_**, Evan said, vying for any conversation.

"Innocent," Aideen commented ,watching the dragon for a time; "So," she said, looking at Evan again; "Do you tend to her?"

Evan nodded; **_I do_**, he replied; **_So… would you like a tour of the country side? It's not much, but a walk is always nice._**

* * *

"C'mon, you _sodding_… get in already!"

Harry fought to stuff the sweater into his chest, for a brief moment forgetting of his origins. With a final grunt he managed to get the sweater in, having stuffed it into his cauldron, among other things. He closed the lid, quickly latched it shut, and then sitting on it just to be sure. With a sigh he ran his hands through his hair, glad the procedure was over.

At this time Draco walked into their shared bedroom, stopping in the doorway to eye his lover uneasily; "what's the matter with you?" he asked, purposefully walking a wide arch around Harry to the closet.

"Just packing," Harry said, looking up; "About ready, love?" he asked, getting up.

"Nearly," Draco replied from the closet, picking out the shirts he planned on taking with him; "Why do you always pack up _everything_ you own? We'll be back in a few weeks!"

"Never know what could happen!" Harry said.

"Yes well just don't forget about the final meeting," Draco said; "I won't be covering for you like last time."

"I was sick!"

"Were not! You were being a little chicken shit!"

"Chicken shit my arse…"

"Well maybe on your arse…"

"Take that back," Harry whispered, suddenly pinning Draco to the wall.

"Ooh, sensitive, are we now?" Draco asked, and he leaned forward to kiss the young man.

* * *

That even was to boast of romance and humor. Earlier Faust and Amos had gathered their belles and had flooed to Paris for a night of peace and courting. Arriving at _Cresent du hibou_, or the Owl's Crescent, they then took to the main streets of Paris. The Owl's Crescent was Paris' version of Diagon Alley, though a little less attractive and not in the least bit fun for a night out. They ate first at a nice villa, and then traveled to the Eiffel Tower. At night, with the stars sparkling and shining, the city around them dancing with life and light, it was breath taking.

Narcissa and Morgan stood side by side, wrapped tight in the arm's of their beau's. Narcissa could not remember a time where Lucius had been so caring, so thoughtful, or so romantic. Faust was ideal for her; they complemented each other. He was considerate, intelligent, powerful and strong. Lucius was powerful and intelligent, but cunningly so and quick to surrender his power to The Dark Lord. Faust would probably rather die then be a coward…

Narcissa sighed, resting her head on Faust's broad chest, hearing his soft heartbeat through his coat and shirt. And though she longed to look up and kiss him, she knew she could not. The ties of marriage ran colder than water, thicker than blood. With Lucius still alive, her hopes of peace and true love were bleak and pointless.

Faust sensed her discomfort, and squeezed her affectionately, more an act of pulling her closer. Narcissa heaved a sigh, and he felt it through his entire being. What could he do? He could not make her happy; he realized that, for there would always be something there, a shadow of ominous eternity: Marriage. He could kill Lucius, but that would be unjust and his reasons would be vain and selfish. He could get the vows annulled, but that was terribly hard to do in such times as these.

* * *

The Room of Requirement was not a room for training. Instead of books and clear spaces, comfortable cushions, sofas and chairs formed a circle, much like the first time. Students sat there whispering and chatting. Harry sat with Draco, Pansy and Blaise on an extra long sofa, the raven-haired youth contemplating his words. Draco patted his folded hands in assurance, and then Harry stood up.

"Well, it's been quite a semester," he said; "And… a lot's happened. I'm not sure what exactly to say to you all tonight. Keep up the good work? Enjoy the holiday? I don't think that would suffice. You all will need to be careful, if anything pay attention to the world around you. I know that, because of who you are, what you do, and where you're at means you're immortal, but it doesn't. There's a battle going on, don't get sucked in. I've talked and talked of neutrality, but after the several occurrences that have transpired, it is clear that there is no middle ground.

"We are no longer in the times of laughter and childhood, where our greatest fear was that the monster under our bed would get us. No longer are we awkward preteens adjusting to new bodies and new thoughts. We are young adults… the _future_. I know that when you go home, your parents will prater on about the war. Maybe they won't, and that may very well be just as bad. Face it, we're in this. But we can change things.

"Do have a Holiday, but don't forget anything here. Now's not the time for irresponsibility. Trust me, _I_ know."

* * *

The winds howled unusually loud that night. The branches would rake against windows; the gales would wrap around the buildings and whistle shrilly. Evan sat up, lying awake in bed, his senses overwhelmed by sound, and what he saw. Shadows danced crazy rituals across his ceiling and walls. With a low growl of frustration he tossed and turned, wanting to sleep badly. It had been a fortnight since he had gotten a decent night's rest. And the full moon was approaching. He needed rest now more than ever. And yet, it eluded him, like an enigmatic nymph in a forest.

Evan threw his covers back and rose. Grabbing a blanket he decided to depart to a small, cozy den located in his wing. He exited his room and like the breath he exhaled he silently made his way down. But as he neared the room he found the door open, and light filtering out into the hall. Someone was there. As he neared the entrance, slat reached his nostrils.

Someone was crying.

Poking his head around the side, he saw Aideen curled up on the couch, the source of the tears. She sat there with her hands over her mouth, staring deeply into the fire as tears freely trailed down her face. She was in the throws of despair, he could literally feel it. Damn him and his extra abilities, he thought. But she was in trouble, and his gentle nature won.

**_Aideen?_**

Her head whipped around as she saw him; "Evan, I… I didn't… I'm sorry," she stumbled with her words, wiping her face and eyes quickly.

**_No, you're okay_**, Evan said as he walked in. **_What's wrong?_**

"Nothing," She lied, a guilty pang ricocheting in her heart at his worry.

**_Something is troubling you_**, he said, and she sat up, offering him a place to sit.

Aideen didn't reply; "So… you come here when you cannot sleep?" she asked.

Evan let a small smile shine as he replied; **_Sometimes. There aren't many places here one can go for solitude._**

Aideen began to rise, muttering; "well I can…" but Evan took her wrist gently in his hand and said quietly; **_No, stay_**. Slowly she sat down and Evan smiled; **_Company is appreciated. Besides, you look like you need some._**

Aideen laughed quietly; "Well, I guess," she said again wiping her eyes.

Evan studied her features; **_Did you have a nightmare_**? He asked.

Aideen nodded; "Something to that nature," she replied; "Nothing of great importance though."

**_They say what plagues the mind plagues the soul_**, Evan replied wisely; **_I'm a good listener. You need a listener_**.

Aideen looked at him; "I'm not from the best of places," she said, looking at the fire deeply again, as if trying to get lost in the embers; "Always running, stealing, and hiding… the _hiding_… sometimes, without food for days," she looked at Evan again; "And I grew weary, Evan. But no one would let me go. They wouldn't let me go," she choked on her sobs, and tears came again.

"Shh, Shh," Evan said gently, the only words he could muster from his scared throat. Gently he wiped the tears away, and she held his hand.

"Can you feel how cold I've grown?" she asked quietly, and slowly he nodded; "I'm never been warm," she whispered; "Never. I can't take it from the sun, from the moon… from here," she placed her hand on his chest, above his heart; "I've never _felt_ like others feel, I've never been allowed;" she looked away; "You should go, there's no need for my burden to be placed on your shoulders.

Evan took her hand in his again, looking at her with all the consideration and affection he could in his eyes. **_The burden is lighter when everyone lifts_**, he said.

Aideen looked at him, and then down at his throat. She had not seen the scar for she had only seen Evan in turtle necks up until now. Three long, deep cuts ran across his neck, like some animal had grabbed him and swung him around. That was the reason for his silence. Here were other scars as well, along his arms, his chest… Without thinking she reached out and touched the scar along his neck, the sensation causing Evan to shiver.

"Oh, sorry!" she said, instantly drawing her hand away; "I… I wasn't thinking!"

**_It's fine_**, Evan said, **_it felt… strange, but in a good way_**. To assure her he smiled, and she sighed.

"They've helped you a lot here… haven't they?" she asked as she ran her fingers along the scars on his hands and lower arms, grasping the stories seal in the marred flesh.

**_Yes, they have…_** Evan said thoughtfully. **_They could help you too, Aideen_**. She looked up at him. **_Sabet and the others feel you're special, I can tell you are_**. **_They want to know what hurts, so they can make it better…_** he studied her eyes deeply, and she felt like he could swim in such pools of color. But there was a sinister shadow, the nightmare that plagued her. **_You're not human, are you?_** He asked, innocent, simple, not in any way meant to be rude.

"Only in appearance," Aideen said as she looked away and gazed once more into the fire. She wiped her eyes quickly before the tears could fall; "They'd throw me out if they knew what I was. I can't stay long anyway…"

**_Why not?_** Evan asked. Aideen if anyone's after you, **_Mister Sabet will keep you safe_**. His face was then set in seriousness and worry**_. At least one out of every three people here have someone or something after them. And you will not be excluded from the benefit of this place._**

Aideen shook her head; "I'll be gone by the New Year," she said, "I'm not even supposed to know about the world. I escaped from an underworld of lies and safety," she looked at Evan then, with a sad smile; "Funny, huh? What's meant to protect me hurts me…" she looked away again.

Evan took her hand in his. Aideen, come on, be real, he said, for the first time acting his age. She looked at him and blinked, staring blankly. Evan sighed. **_Stay_**, he said simply.

Aideen looked away, slowly pulling her hand away into her lap; "Evan, I don't…" she began, but was cut off when his lips tentatively touched hers. Her eyes widened and she stared as he drew back, his cheeks a soft pink.

**_Does that change your mind?_** He asked.

Wordlessly Aideen looked away; "What was that?" she asked after a moment of silence, and Evan blinked.

_**It was a kiss**_, he said with a small smile.

Aideen blushed. "Oh," she said plaintively, "I didn't know what to call it…"

Evan's eyes widened; **_You've never been kissed before? _**He asked, shocked.

"No!" Aideen said, blushing furiously now.

Evan's laughter filled her head; "It isn't funny!" she snapped.

Evan quietly stopped and smiled. She was so innocent, yet accountable. He could take advantage of the situation… but his mother had raised him to be a gentleman.**_ I'm sorry_**, he said, **_I was surprised_**.

"Well," Aideen said, crossing her arms in a huff; "I can't see why."

**_I can_**, Evan said, and she looked at him questioningly**_. It's because you're pretty, you're enigmatic… You're tragically beautiful_**, he finished poetically.

Aideen blinked, then she sighed; "What's gonna happen?" she asked to no one in particular, staring into the fire.

Evan averted his gaze. _That line should have worked_, he thought, a fang gnawing on his lower lip. Wait, a fang? Evan glanced down at his hands, noticing how fine hair was beginning to darken. He glanced out the window, noting how the moon lacked a fraction until it was full. Evan began to worry. He hadn't had any potion like he was supposed to have had.

Aideen sensed the tension and looked over to see Evan looking at his hands. She stared for a moment, then it clicked. She looked out the window, following his gaze. "You're afraid of..." .

It was just a whisper. Evan looked up at her and nodded;**_ I am, but..._** he said. **_I have control of it… now…_**

Aideen nodded; "Well, that's a good thing, I suppose," she said, glancing out the window.

Evan edged closer to her. **_Are you scared_**? He asked.

"Why would I be?" Aideen asked, and Evan smirked.

She could feel a sudden spark, could smell an odor she couldn't identify… what was going on? She was become wary.

"Evan…" Aideen began; "What's going on?"

Suddenly Evan's eyes grew wide and he got up, _**I'm so sorry**_! He said, waving his hands, and then he left the room. Aideen was left to her self, and deeply confused. Was it the affect of the full moon? Jumping up she hurried to follow Evan, she found he had collapsed in the hallway, clutching his chest as his face was contorted in agony. Aideen dropped down at his side, checking him over.

"What hurts, Evan? What hurts? Tell me!" she said frantically, beginning to let her anxiety overtake her.

But Evan only shook his head, groaning. Desperately Aideen popped her knuckles and pushed his tank top up to reveal a heaving, bare chest. Her cold hands touched the heated flesh, and she shivered at the contact. Calling on what power she possessed, Aideen's hands began to glow.

Evan gasped, his eyes snapping open. He felt suddenly numb all over. his mouth hung open slightly, he went limp. Total… total bliss… some euphoric touch had killed away the pain of the Moon… he fought for feeling and he turned his head to see what was happening to him. Aideen was completely focused, and he wondered why. He could feel her cool hands on his chest, how her fingertips barely graced the surface.

Without warning she gasped and shrank back, against the opposite wall, her hands clutched against her chest as she tried to fit inside herself. With difficulty Evan got up onto his knees and crawled over, gasping for air as the need reclaimed him.

**_What did you do?_** He asked her when he reached Aideen, looking at her though her eyes did not look back.

Aideen just shook her head and held out her hands. They were severely burnt, already blistering. That's bad! Evan thought to himself. He helped her up, trying to keep himself steady, and ushered her to help. All the while thoughts raced in his head.

What exactly was she?

What were _they_?

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: I know you all think I'm such a bitch for not updating, and I am. I've had the worst writer's block, and I needed to get on with this when a huge load of ideas hit me so yeah please comment thought! 


	27. Thunder Rolls, Rain Pours

**A/N: **Hello, all! i'm back again!

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!

**------27------**

"He's going to be fine; he just needs some potion is all."

Aideen sighed, along with Sabet and Evan himself. With the two juvenile's guardians out and about, Sabet was left in charge of the two. There were bags under the great vampire's eyes; it was early, too early. He had been up late planning as it was, and had not expected this. He only hoped nothing else had happened.

This is why he had not settled to have children. This situation, finding two teenagers of the opposite gender together, one injured and the other uneasy; No, not a good way to start the day.

Adam rubbed his eyes as he went to a cabinet; "So… how did you heal him again, Aideen?" he asked conversationally; "the bruises he has sustained seem to be from someone _pressing_ _against_ _him_."

Aideen turned a furious red, and coughed. She did not want to answer. Sabet looked at her, hoping she would answer, though he was not about to pressure her. Evan though, was vocal on the matter,to some degree at least.

**_I… I began to feel incredible pain in my chest and I stopped breathing_**, he admitted, truth to the men but not to the girl, **_Aideen helped me to breathe again_**.

"Ah, okay," Adam said, finding the potion he wanted. That was good enough for him. He handed Evan the vial.

Aideen's blushing slowly receded as she eyed Evan. He glanced at her, then looked at Sabet. The vampire knew he was lying, and he would pay for it later.

**_May we go?_** Evan asked.

"As long as you promise to take that," Adam said, motioning to the vial in Evan's hands.

**_I will_**, Evan said, standing from his seat on the bed.

Adam nodded, and then shared a passing glance with Sabet. Aideen knew they were having a quick conversation, one she would never know about. She contented herself with this secrecy; she really didn't need or want to know, anyway.

"Thank-you, Adam," Sabet said, briefly shaking hands with the man; "Not everyone would get up so late."

Adam shrugged; "Eh, it's what I'm here for," he said as he opened the door.

The four exited the infirmary, going their separate ways. Sabet escorted the two to their wing, stopping outside of Aideen's door.

"Now, I must know the truth," was all he had to say.

"You could just 'read our minds'," Aideen said, and Sabet eyed her.

"I find honesty a far better form of conversation."

Aideen sighed; "We were simply talking, and then… the moon came out, and Evan…"

**_I couldn't control myself_**, Evan said guiltily, ashamed.

"And so... he ran... but didn't get very far," Aideen continued; "I saw he was hurt, and I… I helped him. Please Sabet don't kick me out!" she suddenly said, falling into him as she began to cry.

Worriedly Sabet patted her back, and then pulled her away from him; "Why would I?" he asked.

Upon realizing this, Aideen quickly wiped her tears away and straightened up. "No… no reason," she said.

Sabet sighed, "Well, nothing else happened?" he asked, glancing at Evan.

**_No! Of course not_**! Evan replied defensively; **_I was raised better than _that**.

"Well, all of this aside," Sabet said; "I have several guests arriving tomorrow, for a brief stay here. There are two I feel that you two will enjoy entertaining, and they are Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Now, be kind, congenial, and mannerly. They've a lot to go through in the next few months, and I want them to have at least one decent holiday."

"Yes, sir," the two said.

"Good, no get some rest."

* * *

Harry silently rode in the car, watching the scenery pass him by. He and Draco had taken the Hogwarts express and Remus had been there to retrieve them. They had quickly left London behind and had found a portkey that had taken them so far as Paris. But now they had a car and were quickly covering the country side. Remus was driving surprisingly well, though Harry had taken over driving at night so the werewolf could sleep. 

Now Harry was in the front passenger seat. Peering around his shoulder he looked to see Draco sprawled across the back, asleep. The blonde had experienced motion sickness, and had thrown up twice despite the help of a charm and even a small potion. Eventually, he had laid down and fallen asleep. Eventually…

Harry looked over to see Remus chuckling, leaning his head against his hand. "What?" Harry asked.

Remus shook his head; "I just remembered that Morste has Sirius teaching younger animagi. He's always teaching hand-to-hand combat, for anyone foolish enough to take it."

Harry chuckled; "Why is that?"

"Sirius is one of the dirtiest fighters ever!" Remus replied good-naturedly.

"Keep it down!" Draco moaned from the back.

Harry and Remus chuckled to themselves. Reaching for the stereo, Harry could not find any English-speaking station. Sitting back, he enjoyed the rest of the drive.

* * *

"Hurry, hurry, he'll be here soon!" 

"Who, Narcissa?"

"My son, Draco!"

Narcissa was bustling around the room as she got dressed, Faust watching her as he lay stretched out on the bed. They had not slept together, no, but laid together, yes. The marriage Narcissa was still trapped in was binding and true; both would suffer should anything over "friendship" be breached. But Faust had stayed with her. They had talked and lay together, and she had counted the scars on his flesh as he retold stories, and she had showed him a mark she had to endure every day, one she nearly died not to have it put on her. Their tales were somber but their understanding contrite.

And he had fallen for the beautiful woman, just as he saw the sun light her sharp, feminine features.

Now he watched as she put on her undergarments, and was trying to lace up her corset. Getting up Faust wrapped the sheet around his waste, and hastened to help her.

"How old is he, then?" Faust asked as he did.

"He'll be Seventeen in February," Narcissa said with a sigh; "He's grown up so fast, and I have missed so much…"

"You've got plenty of time to make that up, love," Faust said, tying off the corset off with a bow; "There."

"Thank-you," she said, turning and reaching up. But as her lips came close to his she shied away, walking across the room to the vanity.

Faust sighed; "I should… go…" he said, going over. he let the sheet fall, putting his pants on over his undergarments. He hastily put on his over shirt, and picked up the remainder of his things.

Narcissa slowly ran her fingers over the polished wood of her vanity, quiet. She looked back as Faust opened the door, and said; "When he is killed, and I know he will be, I will make you the happiest of men."

Faust looked at her, a small smiled gracing his features; "And I will make you the happiest of ladies."

He bowed his head to her, and left.

* * *

"Come on, boy, hit me harder!" 

_**Smack!**_

"You call that a punch! COME ON!"

**WHACK!**

"That's all you've got? How will you protect—"

**_WHACK! CRACK!_**

Sirius hit the ground.

Evan stood some ten feet away, breathing heavily with his hands balled into fists. He watched as the other man got up, rubbing his jaw gingerly. The training had taken its toll on the teen; he hated being yelled at, tormented, and called names. It angered Evan, made him see red. And his teacher knew this all too well.

Sirius chuckled as the tart coppery taste of blood flowed over his tongue; he had bitten his cheek. He walked back over to Evan .spitting red spit out as he did; "Now that's a punch," he said with a grisly smile; "Now, we have to focus on that. Know what the source of it?"

Evan nodded. He rarely spoke during these things; he rarely spoke to Sirius. The two were content with this. Evan wanted to learn; Sirius was bored. It evened out.

"Good." Sirius said. "Do it again."

Evan blinked, and Sirius clarified; "Do whatever it was you did, then hit me again."

Evan sighed, and drew out everything that made him mad as hell. In the second of thought his eyes snapped open and he swung out at Sirius again. Once he hit the man's shoulder, the second, Sirius ducked. His foot swooped out and Evan jumped it, his own foot coming into contact with Sirius' chest. Sirius caught it, and wrapping his hands firmly around Evan's ankle, flipped the boy over in mid air and sent him face first into the ground.

"Good try, kid," Sirius said; "But you messed up. _Again_."

Evan got up, spat dirt out of his mouth and wiped off his face. Turning he looked at Sirius, who continued; "You have to focus on what gives you that boost, yeah, but you can't let your guard down. You can't forget that your opponent is a living thing, like you. They can breathe, think, and act."

Evan nodded. He had let his guard down, and that disgusted him with himself. He rarely did let his guard down, and normally it was heightened whenever he was around other.

"Hey, it was a good go, Ev'!" Sirius said happily, heartily patting the teen on the back; "That should be enough for today. Gotta get washed up anyway, guests are coming!"

And the man was gone faster than Evan expected. Evan looked around, and shrugged. He went to his room and got ready, then headed for the library. He walked in and for a moment, stood in the golden hue of light streaming from stain glass. He never really took the time to appreciate a century's worth of hard labor. All he knew about the glass was that a patient and intuitive monk had done them. _Only one_. To think one man could do such a thing…

Evan turned his attention elsewhere when he heard a page turn. Sitting beneath the stain glass windows on a mound of pillows, a book in her hand and countless more around her was Aideen. Evan smirked as he approached her. She had been reading constantly once Sabet had taught her English, and she was improving. Evan had taken it upon himself to learn some Italian though, in hopes of impressing her.

_**Ciao, bella…**_

Aideen's head snapped up and she stared at Evan, a small smile on her face; "Ciao," she replied, patting a nearby pillow.

_**Come è? il libro?**_

"It's good," Aideen replied, giggling; "When did you learn Italian?"

Evan shrugged, leaning back; **_Just recently_**, he admitted. **_I figured that if English became too hard…_**

"It's getting easier," Aideen said with a blush; "So, have you ever met Harry Potter? I found a history book, and he was in it a lot…"

Evan nodded; **_Yes, I have. But only once and it was awkward_**, he said. **_He's very important to Wizarding Society._**

"A cel-lebrity?" Aideen asked, faltering on the word.

Evan smiled; **_of sorts_**, he replied.

They then heard the loud boom of a bell. Someone was here. Putting down her book, Aideen rose with Evan as he got up. Together they left the library and headed down to the foyer. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, introductions had already been made. The Elders were all present. Narcissa was choking the life out of her son with a hug, Harry was talking with Remus and Sirius excitedly. Evan and Aideen cautiously made their way down, unsure of where they would fit into the crowd.

Silence fell when the two stepped onto the marble floor. Sabet smiled and Narcissa came over as well, dragging her son with her as she did.

"Draco, darling, I want you to meet someone," She said; "This is Aideen. You're sister, of sorts."

Draco's eyes widened. "Huh?" he asked.

Aideen smiled, though a bit uneasy; "Surrogate, I suppose," she said, and he could hear her accent clearly, Italian.

"Oh! Sorry for my rudeness!" Draco said, holding out his hand. Aideen shook it, quickly, then brought it back to her other to hold in front of her.

"And this is Evan; he will be acting as you and Harry's guide, should you need one," Sabet said; "Of course, he's also a good companion."

Evan held out his hand, and Draco shook it. "Pleasure to meet you," Draco said.

Harry came over, beaming; "Isn't this great!" he asked excitedly; "Everyone's here! We might actually have a good Christmas Draco!"

Draco smiled at his lover; "Well calm down so you can meet our latest friends," he said.

Harry looked; "Oh, hey, Evan!" he said, shaking the boy's hand; "Oh, who are you?" he asked Aideen.

The girl was taken aback by Harry's sudden disposition, and she only stared; "Forgive him;" Draco said; "He's had too much sugar. But this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Aideen, and you already know Evan…"

"Hi!" Harry said, then he turned to Draco; "Come on, Draco! Let's put our stuff up! I wanna talk with Sirius and Remus!"

"Go on, I'll be right up," Draco said, and Harry gathered his luggage and bounded up the stairs.

Narcissa, who had stayed silent throughout this, suddenly burst out into tinkling laughter. Everyone stared at her, bewildered, and she soon regained control. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, and looked at Draco.

"Last time I saw him, he looked ready to kill the world," she explained; "It's good to see that."

Draco simply eyed her. "Mother…" he said slowly; "Perhaps you should lie down?" he was serious about the matter. He thought she was going mad.

Narcissa realized that Draco had rarely seen her laugh, or smile, for that matter. She smiled kindly at him and patted his shoulder; "Draco, dear, I'm just overjoyed. No need for worry, I promise you."

Draco nodded. He realized now that he was looking down at him mother slightly. How much time had passed since he had seen her? "Mother, may we talk?" he asked earnestly.

The glow faded with Narcissa's worry. "Of course, dear," she said, taking her child's hand as she often did when he was in need of her. This time was no different.

When they left, Aideen and Evan exchanged glances. Aideen looked at Sabet, who had also remained silent, merely observing; "Morste…" Aideen said quietly; "That was…"

"Awkward? Of course it would be," Sabet said gently; "Don't worry. By tomorrow night, you will quickly feel different."

"But, tomorrow's the…"

"The gala? Why yes, indeed it is," Sabet said airily; "Be careful, you two," he said, then he departed to talk with Remus.

Evan and Aideen again exchanged glances; "Want to visit the garden?" Aideen asked, and Evan smiled.

* * *

The evening and following day passed without event. Harry and Draco decided to spend some alone time together, but during the afternoon, they found Aideen and Evan and decided to "bond" with their fellows. Aideen kept quiet, having her nose in a book as she ate up the English language. But Evan made up for it. He was imaginative, witty, and intelligent. Conversations ran from Quidditch, to food, and eventually, to the other inhabitants of the Castle. 

"So, are there any other teenagers here?" Draco asked.

Evan nodded. **_Several, but they're all Muggle born_**, he replied; **_They're afraid of me and Aideen. They think they're cursed enough by being afflicted… _**he looked away for a moment. **_But it doesn't really bother us, does it Aideen?_**

Aideen looked up briefly; "No," she said quietly, diving into the book.

Harry watched her. She reminded him of Hermione for her eagerness to learn far exceeded his. "Aideen," he said; "Why do you read so much? You've always had a book in your hand every time I've seen you."

Aideen looked up, setting her book in her lap; "I'm learning English," she said; "I'm learning about the world I wasn't allowed to know."

Harry's lips pursed. Who was she then? "So… you never got out… at all?" he asked.

"No," she replied simply, and returned to her book.

Harry met Evan's gaze, and the werewolf shook his head; "Well," Draco said, feeling the tension and a need to relieve everyone of it; "shall we go in? I'm hungry."

* * *

The castle's Great Hall had been converted into a marvelous, lavish room for eating and dancing. The fireplaces on opposite walls blazed brightly and heated the rooms. Candles floated and lit the floor. Fine China sat on the tables, ornate flower arrangements situated in the middle. Quickly maids bustled around, charming this and that so that everything was proper. 

But Sabet was not overseeing such things. Instead, he was in his chambers, straightening the collar of his shirt as he stared at his reflection. The mirror told no lies to the vampire. His hair had been let down from the usual low ponytail he kept it in. Hanging by his eye, in clear sight, was a grey hair. Sabet only sighed at this, weary and all too knowing of what it foretold.

Now that his hair was turning he knew his time on earth was rapidly drawing to a close. Old age caught up with vampires quickly. After two hundred years or so, it began to set in as the magic slipped away. By the end of the year, Sabet was promised a peppered head of hair. By the end of the decade, he would develop crow's feet on his face. And by thirty years… he would be hunched over. It seemed ludicrous, how little time it really took.

"Well, everything must come to an end," he said as he put his hair back, deftly tucking the silvery strand away.

No one else had to know until he could no longer hide it.

* * *

There were nearly four hundred guests, fellow outlaws of the Ministry, and a cherished few witches and wizards unhindered by encumbering disabilities. Harry and Draco had quickly fallen into another group of teenagers that inhabited the castle, dragging a reluctant Evan along. They soon felt tension though, between the werewolf and the others, and quickly relieved it by beginning to explain Quidditch. Some had known about the sport, but most didn't. Evan contented himself with listening, but really his eyes were roaming the open hall, in search of only one person. As his worry grew, he fiddled anxiously. Picking at lint on his robes, adjusting his collar, coughing. But none of those seemed to relieve his nerves. 

Draco, taking a moment for Harry to explain the aspects of the bludger, sensed the young werewolf's anxiety. He walked over and said; "Evan, something up?"

Evan whipped around, caught off guard. But he quickly relaxed. I'm just looking for someone… he replied, eyes again looking around.

He seemed as if he were hunting, on the prowl. Perhaps it just seemed that way. But Draco knew who he was after; "Aideen?" he quipped knowingly.

Without a thought, Evan nodded. Then, his eyes grew wide as they landed on the top of the sloping stairs. There she is… the echoing thought was somehow whispered in awe, and Draco was drawn to look as well.

Aideen was standing halfway down the steps, nervous. Her ivory gown had pure black lace atop it. Her sleeves stopped at her elbows, and fans of lace billowed around her wrists. She wore a simple string of pearls. Her hair was tamed, curly, and up, though loose tendrils had been strategically placed. Her face had been highlighted with makeup…

Draco saw his mother standing at the top of the steps with a proud air about her. She had obviously aided Aideen in her appearance. Draco smiled and nodded when she saw him.

"Go get her," the blonde said, shoving Evan forward.

Evan nearly tripped over his dress robes, and turned to look at Draco sharply. Gathering up his dignity, he then strode boldly across the hall, walking up the steps to meet Aideen halfway. He gave her a gentle smile, and held out his hand. She smiled and took it, and he escorted her.

Draco tapped Harry on the shoulder and when his love turned he pointed. Harry smirked; "Oh, it's so cute," he swooned.

Draco chuckled; "Come with me," he whispered seductively, taking Harry's hand and leading him across the dance floor.

* * *

Evan took Aideen out to the dance floor, and finding positions, they began to glide about, like the couples around them. Aideen was blushing, a gentle smile on her features that made her entire face light up. Evan gently guided their dance, a mix of ballroom and Spanish dancing. He had lived in Spain for a time, and the upbeat music was what swayed him to remember the dancing he would watch and memorize in awe as a child. Aideen was a quick learner, and soon they had captivated an audience of other dancers.

* * *

Faust and Narcissa sat with Morgan, Amos, Sabet and Adam, watching approvingly; "Well, she's found her place here," Narcissa said with a thankful little sigh. 

"Evan will take care of her, Narcissa," Morgan said, and Narcissa nodded.

"Oh yes, of that I'm sure."

"They are the future, aren't they?" Adam suddenly quipped; "Evan, Aideen, Harry and Draco?"

Sabet sighed; "I believe so," he said, briefly remembering the damned grey hair. "But, they are young, and we're still here!" he added with a gentle laugh, and the others joined in.

* * *

When the dance ended, their faces were close. Ignoring the applauds Evan leaned down, placed a small kiss on Aideen's lips. Aideen was taken aback by this action. It was unexpected, but so unlike the night before. He had kissed her without thought, but with intentions from his heart. It was a deep concept, this attraction. 

"Thank-you," she whispered as they began to slow dance to the next song. She rested his head on his chest, face turned so she could look up at him.

Anything to make you smile… he projected to her.

* * *

"Oh, it's just so sickeningly romantic," Draco grumbled, having clued into the couple. He found the delicate balance interesting and a peak for his curiosity. 

"Just ignore it then," Harry told him as they swayed to the music; "We were like that, once…" he couldn't say he missed those days, either.

"Yes, but we were so… _poignant_!" Draco said as he continued to study; "They're just so… so…"

"_Gone with the Wind_?" Harry finished, and Draco looked up at him confusedly.

"It's a Muggle book," Harry explained; "A love story set in North America during their civil war. Hmmm, she's not much of a Scarlet though…" he mumbled, now intrigued as well.

"See, now you're curious," Draco chastised; "It's quite interesting…"

Harry rolled his eyes, stopping; "come on," he said, leading Draco to a door; "I think we could have more fun elsewhere…"

"Ooh like the time we skipped Potions for the Broom Closet?" Draco asked excitedly, and Harry only chuckled.

* * *

Evan gently took Aideen's hand and led her to the side. **_I want to show you something_**, he said to her quietly. **_Care to leave this for a moment?_**

"Of course," Aideen said, and Evan smiled with a small squeeze he gave to her hand.

He then led her out of the hall. They traveled down a corridor Aideen had never been through. There were sconces that cast a gentle light, full and yet still provoking majestic shadows. She began to notice portraits of witches and wizards that failed to move, faded when false life had been drained from them. This saddened her. She did not know why, but it did.

Evan felt the shift in her emotions, and squeezed her hand gently again. He looked at her and smiled, and she gave him a small smile in return. He knew what he was about to show her would no doubt upset her, but hopefully put some of her emotions to rest.

Hopefully…

Finally, they stopped outside of a large, double door, moss growing on the bottom and sides. It was weathered, old, but somehow still retaining the life of something new. Aideen instinctively reached out and touched the wood, feeling the coarse and neglected wood. She felt connected to it, like she knew the forest it had come from… And it was dead. Dead, once majestic, now simple, every day.

Evan watched her for a time, and then took the golden doorknob in his hand. Aideen stepped back as he opened for her. There was a bright light, and then it dimmed. Aideen glanced at Evan, and he motioned to enter.

**_I think you deserve to know._** He told her quietly, hand falling to couple with the one he held behind his back.

Aideen eyed him, then cautiously peered into the room behind the door. It was a vast chamber, with a dome shape and a crescent skylight. The shadow the moon projected on the floor fit perfectly with a carved, intricate design. Along the walls were statues, and tombs built into the walls. At once Aideen understood as she walked towards the center of the room. Bathed in the ethereal light of the moon, her hand over her mouth as her eyes squinted to keep back tears that flowed anyway, she was the picture of a fallen angel, desperate for Heaven again.

Evan watched on sadly, watched as she turned round and round, taking it all in and trying to grasp the reality… He knew the room well, knew why it was built. A commemoration he had come across when he was twelve, researched every now and then, and learned its secrets. He knew who the statues were loosely based on, what the signs and writing translated into…

This was a commemorate chamber, honoring the fallen of a war many had forgotten. But Evan had not. The war was still waging as well, Aideen being a refugee. Did she know? By her tears, Evan assumed she did. He decided that now was the time to intervene, to hug her. He stepped into the chamber and the door closed silently behind him.

Aideen whipped around, glaring at him through her tears, a half-hearted attempt to vent; "Why would you show me this?" she asked in a breath as he approached her.

Gently, Evan rested his hands on her arms. **This_, Aideen…?_** He replied, looking at her. **_This is what I know about you. You need to know it as well. It is not my knowledge to have alone_**. Gently, he wiped away her tears gently, taking her face in his hands.

Aideen held to his wrists. Overcome, she closed her eyes and fell into him, weeping openly. Evan held her tightly. The feeling of the nearly full moon practically burned the back of his neck, and he briefly looked up at it. Fighting a primal urge, he gritted his teeth and looked away, unwilling for his wounded throat to make a sound. He focused on Aideen, and what was going to transpire next.

* * *

Sabet sipped on his wine, now alone at his table, watching as everyone around them enjoyed themselves. HE was too busy making sure everything was safe, that all of the wards were still intact. IT took all of his power to keep such a large place so safe. Usually he was able to tolerate it with ease, but tonight was different. There were now an extra four hundred people to protect… Sighing he sipped on his wine. 

Then there was a change. A light gust of air blew through the Hall, ignored by most but certainly not by the vampire. Things began to slow, and life became cold, scarce. Sabet was nearly on his feet when a hand rested on his shoulder, holding him down.

"Why Morste, won't you have a drink with me?"

Sabet sighed, and through gritted teeth replied; "There is no denying an armed Judas, now is there, Ellis?"

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N:** Dun dun dun! Oh I'm terribly evil, I'm so sorry for this horrendous cliff. Oh well, leave me comments! 


	28. Of Beasts and Men

**Do A/N: **

Hello, all! Thank you for the reviews! And now, here's Chapter 28!

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!

**------28------**

"Oh, _right_—ow! Watch out!"

"Sorry, sorry! It's cramped is all!"

"Well you had to pick a closet!"

"I was going for the feeling of the situation!"

Draco groaned; "Just let me turn on a light…"

"No, no! We're fine!" Harry said, adjusting.

He kissed Draco deeply, but the blonde pulled away; "Ouch! You stepped on my foot!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry love," Harry said earnestly.

Draco smiled; "Well, you've got the feeling, alright," he said seductively as his hand traveled downward.

Harry shivered at the touch; "Oh gods," he whispered.

Suddenly, both young men felt a tremor. Not a physically. A magical rush that froze both of them as they took it in. Instantly they burst out of the closet, looking around.

"Who made that?" Draco asked as they headed for the Great Hall, putting their clothing on at the same time.

Harry shook his head; "I don't know, but it didn't feel good," In truth it had rocked him to his core, and sent unwanted chills down his spine.

They reached an entrance, and tried to open it. The doors were cold to the touch, and Draco shied away in sudden uncertainty, just before he touched the handle. "Harry, don't!" he suddenly shouted just as Harry's fingertips graced the cold metal.

But Harry hadn't heard him. As soon as his skin came into contact, he began to slow down. Reaction time, awareness, breathing…everything. He was able to recognize something was wrong, but as he pulled away, the spell had run its course.

Draco watched in horror as Harry's skin turned grey, and he failed to breath. Slowly he walked over, tentatively reaching over; "H-Harry?" he stuttered, touching his lover's shoulder.

And then, the spell overcame him as well.

* * *

Ellis Vander chuckled; "_Judas_? I believe that is you, vampire."

Sabet felt the cold steal at his side, through his robes. He sighed and set his glass down; "Shall we take this elsewhere?" he asked, more so a statement.

Vander shook his head; "Here is just fine," he said, rising. "Stand up."

Sabet did, straightening his robes professionally; "This is a cowardly act, Ellis," he said, looking at Vander in t he eye; "What have I done to you?"

"Look around," Vander said, and Sabet did; "You did this."

"Provided a haven?" Sabet asked, looking back and Vander incredulously.

"No, established a school," Vander corrected him; "At least, that is what the Minister thinks," he added smugly; "Me, I don't know what this place is. I was just paid handsomely to relieve you and several others of their duties…"

"You know, Ellis, what this place is," Sabet said heatedly, becoming angry; "When I first approached you, when I found you in an alley…"

"With a dead woman in my arms!" Vander shouted irately, overcome; "I swore that I would destroy this curse and them myself."

* * *

"Shh, Shh," Evan murmured as he held onto a quivering and silent Aideen. She had stopped crying, but he could tell she was still flustered, still fighting to comprehend…

Finally, Aideen raised her head. Her makeup was a mess, she was angry; "Why?" she asked again, stronger, her voice shaking though, for all her emotion.

Evan wiped the black trails from her face. **_This is something you needed to know._**

"I didn't want to know!" Aideen whispered.

**_To want is different than to _need**, Aideen, Evan said wisely. **_Of that much I am sure_**.

Aideen stepped away, slowly. She looked around; "I know them all," she said, regarding the statures; "From stories, from… events…" she glanced at Evan; "All of them are dead of course. That's the only way you could end up here…" she wiped her eyes, walking over, and standing in front of a statue of a man with a stern expression; "My…my _father_!" she held her hands over her mouth as a fresh wave of sadness rocked her heart. She looked at Evan with a fierce gaze, whipping around so fast that her hair and dress graced to the other side of her action.

"And it's all… all _his_ fault!"

Evan was about to speak, when they both felt a tremor rock their worlds. Evan immediately went to Aideen and protectively embraced her until the tremor passed.

Suddenly, there was a tremor that shook through them, worse than any quake. Evan was immediately on the defense, Aideen was frozen in fear. They rode it out, unable to focus for a time. _What was that?_ Aideen wondered, and Evan voiced the question.

"I don't know," Aideen said; "but I tell you, someone's here."

_**The Ball Room!**_ Evan said, and they immediately left the room.

* * *

"Ellis, accidents happen," Sabet said; "I offered to help you make amends, I offered my advice. I have suffered far longer than you, and I think it's time you realized that you are no martyr!"

"Martyr? _Martyr_! What fool do you take me for!" Vander asked; "I am no _martyr_, that is a fact. I am just a tool to rid the world of an evil."

"So you are a saint?" Sabet asked; "you are proposing genocide, you fool," he said, sitting down.

"I did not say you could sit down," Vander growled.

"And I did not ask you if I could," Sabet said, sipping his wine. "Ellis, you are young. You are smart, you are strong. You're a survivor. Why make you living on death? You stand for so much more."

Vander was silent in his thought, and Sabet continued; "What you are, Ellis, is a combination of three very influential and important groups of people. You hold in your hands the power of peace, the power of understanding. You have the choice to make this world, as a whole, a more reasonable place. You have a voice so powerful, and yet…" he shook his head in wonder, gazing off at the frozen crowd; "You… are _silent_. So… eager to destroy your shame. You say that, what you do is for the good of man, but really it is to sate your own agenda. You fear what you possess, and you fear it in others. Your ignorance has taken the lives of hundreds, and still you walk this earth!"

His last was stated loudly. Vander blinked and missed Sabet moving to stand in front of him. "You know nothing," Vander hissed; "NOTHING!"

He shoved Sabet back, and the vampire narrowly missed a chair. Vander whipped out his revolver, aiming at Sabet's heart; "And that is how it will remain," he said, finger on the trigger.

Sabet stood tall and calm, unwavering; "I probably _will_ never know, Ellis," he said; "For there has never been an opportunity that you did not ignore."

Sabet saw Vander's hand shake slightly; "Well, all that's sentimental aside," he said; "I do have business to attend to."

"How much are you being paid to do this?" Sabet asked, _never mind who was paying Vander_, he thought absently. He knew.

"Oh, fairly well, I should imagine," Vander said; "Nearly two hundred thousand galleons, maybe more. I don't really know. The paperwork is still being sorted out…"

* * *

Aideen gasped as they came upon the entrance. Draco and Harry were motionless, their skin grey and dead looking, eyes faded and grim. Evan, curious, began to approach them, but Aideen grabbed his arm and pulled him violently back.

"No! You mustn't touch them!" she said earnestly; "You'll become like them."

**_What happened to them_**? Evan asked, looking at her.

Aideen averted her eyes as she thought. "A _suptended_ charm, I think," she finally replied; "You know, things stop, they don't change? It's not that they're dead, just…"

**_You mean_** **suspended** **_animation?_** Evan asked, and Aideen nodded.

Evan looked at the two young vampires. **_Can we help them?_** He asked.

"Yeah, but whoever cast this…" her voice trailed away; "Stand back, Evan. _Please_." The polite request came out as a sob as Aideen arched her back and her fingers spread out almost painfully.

Evan did as he was told, watching as Aideen's mask, a glamour, faded away. Large, pointed ears, overly thin and long digits, glowing skin, limbs sinuous and thin, too long, for reaching into the earth… her true self, still better. Her eyes were closed tightly in pain as she straightened up, pulling her hair down in a quick swiping motion. It seemed vibrant, less subdued. Beads and pins fell to the floor, the only sound for a time.

When she opened her eyes, they were flecked with red, amber orbs of light. She was elegant and deadly suddenly, feral and inhuman. Though she was still Aideen, she was no longer the young witch Evan had befriended.

**_Ai… Aideen…?_** he projected, but she held a hand out.

"Get. _Help_." she ground out, English suddenly too hard to master.

Evan looked at her helplessly, then at Draco and Harry. He closed his eyes and cleared his head, and then he was off.

Aideen stared at the door. Her eyes saw the spells, like golden, wafting mist. She looked at the two vampires and held her hands out. As she focused on an ancient spell, tendrils of soft blue escaped her fingers. They encompassed the two young men completely. The spell she had cast would take time to fully work. She again stared at the door, and a small, light growl escaped her.

She walked up, and boldly placed her hand on the wood. A chill swept over her body, but she quickly got over it. With a sigh, her breath blew over her hand, and it glowed. It went through the door, and then, she followed her hand.

* * *

Sabet shook his head; "A contract killer," he said wearily; "I thought you would have been more…"

"More?" Vander asked; "I do what I must, no matter what recognition I do or don't get."

"That is not what I meant, and you know that," Sabet said.

He was about to finish, but a high-pitched wailing sound suddenly filled the room. Both men were caught off guard, their verbal battle forgotten for a moment. It rushed about the room like a breeze, poignant and longing. Vander knew the sound all too well; he had been the cause for such a cry many, many times over. And each time, it sent shivers down his spine. It was one of the few things this world had to unnerve him.

Sabet was perplexed and fearful. Had Vander conjured something else? Had he unleashed something onto the castle? His senses directed him towards set of doors then. He watched a hand came through the wood, and then a foot, a dress, another hand, and finally, the face of a child he knew.

"Aideen…" he breathed, shocked and unsettled.

The elfin girl stumbled from the door, catching herself quickly. Gracefully she straightened up, chest heaving though her breath was silent. Her bright, fiery eyes stared at Vander.

"You…" she said, stepping forward.

Vander aimed the gun at her, and she stopped; "Ah, the one that got away!" he said archly; "Thought I left you to die in the Alps, elfchild."

"I'm lucky," Aideen said quietly. She desperately wanted to drop the language and speak her own, but constant spells would get her no where.

"Well obviously, and you made it here!" Vander said.

"Ellis, leave her out of this," Sabet said.

"Oh, but I can't, Morste," Vander said, regarding the vampire for a moment; "She's the reason I wasn't paid for my _last_ job…"

When Vander glanced at Sabet, Aideen took the opportunity. With a feral cry she had crossed the distance, and her long fingers wrapped around the gun and wrenched it from Vander's grasp. She threw it, and it landed some feet away, only to slide into the middle of the dance floor, hitting against a young woman's shoe.

Vander blinked and slapped Aideen, sending her flying. Aideen hit the floor and slid into chairs, knocking over a table. She lay motionless under the wreckage. Vander took the opportunity and punched Sabet, and the blow sent the vampire to his knees, and then to his side. Satisfied that the old codger was out of commission for a time, Vander walked over to the elfin girl, who was busy throwing a table cloth and broken china off of her body.

"So there's truth to your nickname, _Delamor_," Vander said, and she stared at him in surprise; "Vixen, I believe? Well, you are cunning, and certainly elegant…"

Aideen glared; "Bastard," she said, and Vander laughed as his wand manifested with a flourish of his fingers.

"Oh, you've mastered the best in English, child," he said. He aimed the wand at Aideen; "But I fear you won't have time to learn more."

Instinct to her to attack, her head told her to speak, and her heart begged her to run. Run and find Evan, run home, run… she had no where to run. In the matter of a second, Aideen thought all of this, and her heart sank.

"Oh, contemplating suicide, child?" Vander drawled; "Let me help…"

* * *

Evan burst through the parlor's doors, and stopped to catch his breath and look around. He recounted the weapons on the walls, but as he viewed a sword, his eyes caught sight of the moon. His bones began to ache and he growled through gritted teeth. _Soon now_, he thought, _and I will be the living dead._

Ignoring his inner beast, he chose a sword above the mantle. Taking it down, he stared at the fire dancing in the blade, a reflection. He looked into his own eyes, turning away at the sight of his darkening eyes.

* * *

"When you kill me," Aideen breathed; "The world shall fall on you."

"Oh, I've heard that a lot," Vander said with a laugh; "Is that some curse your people have placed upon me?"

Aideen only stared at him staunchly; "Yes," she said; "even now, your life is failing."

Vander was taken aback slightly by such a statement, though it didn't really surprise him. Just the fact that she had the sheer gall to say it…

"Well, I've heard enough from you," he said, and his hand shot out.

Instantly breath was stolen from her as Aideen was lifted off the ground by some invisible force. Her neck felt as if it were being strangled. She grappled at the air, found nothing to clutch, and placed her hands on her neck instead. She thought countless counter curses. Vander smiled, walking over to her.

"Goodbye," he said flatly, and his hand jerked to the left.

Aideen screamed as she was thrown across the room and through the windows. The glass broke apart, but hung in the air, suspended pieces of the sky. The lack of sound unnerved Aideen as she fell with a great thud, slammed into the ground. She tried to rise, but she couldn't. She knew something was broken. She prayed her legs were still fine, usable. Her wrist hurt, and her head did as well.

Vander was quick to follow her, jumping through the hole Aideen had created. Shards of glass brushed up against him, some cutting through his long coat. But he didn't care; a coat didn't matter at the given time. He landed silently, dusting himself off out of pure habit. With a nearly feral grin, he spotted the elfin maid, who lay precariously on the ground, her chest having as breath pained her. Vander reveled in it.

His boots clicked against the earth, and quickly he reached her. Pulling her up harshly by her arm, he held her at level with his eyes. He manipulated her head to rise, and her eyes to open. Wearily she looked at him, heated gaze undeterred by her pain.

"But you are a fighter," he mused, shaking his head and dropping her unceremoniously. He kneeled, bending over her; "I can make this painless, you know…"

Again, the invisible hands wrapped around her neck, and pressure built against her chest. Aideen tired to look away. Why was he so powerful? She had underestimated him.

Vander smirked; "Tell me about where the Citadel is…" he droned, running a cool finger down her jaw line; "And your death will be quick, painless even..."

Aideen only glared at him, silent. Vander chuckled, then clinched his fist; "You'll do well to answer me!" he growled, and Aideen gasped.

"No…" she breathed.

Vander frowned. He needed the location, he couldn't kill her. Perhaps if he killed Sabet then took her with him… the thought was a good one, he realized.

"Well, _Delamor_," he said, breath hot against her skin; "You will be reminded of your place in due time. But, until then…"

"**NOOOOOOO**!"

The voice was resonating and powerful, loud and uncontrolled. It was hoarse and full of passion, weak from its silence. Looking around, Vander saw the heaving form of a young man at the garden's entrance, Evan. Weary from fighting his transformation, determination lit his eyes in a passionate fire. He wielded the sword expertly, standing there in the moonlight.

A twisted smirk graced Vander's face; "What is this?" he asked, Aideen falling as his magic was redirected to ready for defense or attack; "Another hero? This bloody fucking place must spit them out regularly."

"I'm no hero," the teen said hoarsely; "Just another victim who's had enough."

Then it dawned on him. Vander knew who the boy was, he _knew_!

"I _know_ you," he said snidely; "The little boy that got away? The one Greyback could only mute?" he laughed; "I remember seeing you at St. Mungo's, the entire Ministry was fretting over you," his face turned sour then; "And you came here."

"Best place I ever came across," Evan coughed then, violently. Blood dotted his lower lip, and he wiped it away.

"Scar tissue's a bitch, boy," Vander spat, holding his hand up; "Time you shut up again."

He pulled the same trick on Evan, magic encircling the boy's throat and chest, and then slowly constricting. Evan coughed, and tried not to move. His hand tightened around the hilt of the sword until his knuckles turned white. He would not move if he could help it. But oh how he needed air! He coughed violently again, and the taste of copper overwhelmed him. He had to stop talking, he had said too much. His throat was on fire, eaten away by his outburst. His hand shook, he wanted to let go of the sword. His chest cried out in agony as ribs threatened to break. Evan was tough and strong, a gift from his curse, but even he had his limits.

Then, a thought occurred to him.

Vander smiled in malicious victory as Evan succumbed and collapsed. "You always were thought of as a weakling," he mused, and then he turned his eyes again on Aideen. She had not moved, but her eyes were fixed on Evan, sympathetic and heartbrokenly wide in terror.

"Oh, have you feelings for that boy?" Vander sneered.

Aideen shot him a fiery glare that would have sent anyone else running. Vander only laughed; "you cannot scare me, you—"

Suddenly, he was at a loss for words. Pain erupted from his back and chest. He couldn't breathe, he was drowning! Looking down, he saw a shining, crimson blade protruding from below his sternum. Vander coughed blood; the blade was ripped from his body. Stumbling he fell, and rolling onto his back he looked to see the werewolf standing over him, bloody blade gripped tightly in both hands.

Quickly the scenario played in Vander's head. He had faked his death. He had then darted across the garden, stalked his way over. he had hunted Vander. He had sneaked up, and jammed the blade in a upward thrust through Vander's body.

Evan's breath was ragged. He stared at Vander, his wizard trying to enjoy his victory while his beast clawed and bit and fought for freedom. He had beaten it, nearly, anyways, and now he tried to stall it once more. Vander's wild eyes caught this and he laughed a gurgling, pitiful laugh.

"You'll finish the job for me, boy," he gasped, and then, he breathed no more.

Evan was stunned. Finish what job? He looked at Aideen then, how she had passed out, succumbed to the toil of battle. He dropped the blade, felt the rush of magic that had been put on hold. Screams erupted from the ball room, he heard people running around, but Evan didn't care. He had to get away. He had to run now. He hadn't taken his potion like Adam had said, he had been defiant that way.

Now he quickly darted over and planted a soft kiss on Aideen's head, and then he rushed for the outside world, rushed for the forest.

* * *

Draco and Harry both fell as a sudden rushed of air filled their lungs. Harry stumbled into the ballroom, while Draco collapsed. Harry then looked around, saw the chaos, and quickly closed the doors again. HE looked at Draco, who had since rolled over and was staring at the ceiling.

"What… the hell…?" Harry asked, sitting down.

Draco only began to laugh; "I'm so high for some reason!" he said in a high-pitched voice.

Harry stared at Draco, and then laughed. "What the hell is the matter?" he asked through his fit of random mirth.

"I don't know!" Draco said through his laughter.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

Please review! Thank-you! 


	29. Desperate Times

**Do A/N: **

Hello, all! Thank you for the reviews! And now, here's Chapter 29!

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!

**------29------**

It had over come his weary mind. The strain of the wards, the sudden lapse of magic, then its reappearance, it had dealt a harsh blow. Sabet had collapsed against the floor, trying to find some form of security for his home, for those in the Ball Room. He quickly tried to reestablish the wards, and succeeded. But now, Sabet was in sore need of sleep. He was somnolent, the chaos of the Hall buzzed petulantly in his ears. His vision was off, blurry, askew. People crowded around him, two hoisted him to his feet, but he could not, would not, gather the strength to stand. The magical had consumed him, nearly. He was still fighting darkness, desperate to stay awake. He heard his name being called, urgent and worried, but it did not matter. He was losing, darkness was upon him.

And it consumed him, whole and true.

* * *

Aideen's eyes snapped open. She shot up, ignoring the pain that screamed from her ribs. The sudden crash of the glass made her scream in fright. She shivered as she looked around. What had happened? And Vander? Instantly her eyes fell onto the corpse that lay at her feet. Screaming again she jumped back. Crouching then rising, she did not know what to do.

Where was Evan?

She shot off for the open gate, soon leaving the warmth of the enchanted garden for the biting cold of the winter locked outside the walls. For a moment she stopped to catch her breath, dropping to her knees. As she did her hands reached out to catch the ground, only she touched something sticky…

Blood.

Horrified, Aideen rose. A patch of hair was beside the small pool. It was brown. Evan. Renewed she ran on, all the while hoping she would find a boy, and not a monster. She soon found herself in the thick of the forest, hearing underbrush breaking all around her from the weight of snow on limbs of trees. Her breath was ragged and she collapsed in the snow, curling up in a ball and shivering. She coughed, and copper filled her mouth. Vander had really damaged her.

Aideen finally sighed raggedly, the exhale shaky, labored. "_Ah, mi_…" she sighed, staring sadly at the ground. Her fingers splayed out, her shoulders went slack, and she closed her eyes…

Her skin was suddenly warm and soon it was splitting in a sudden, fiery moment. Her bones twisted and her muscles convulsed. Her eyes shot open as they dilated and flashed a many color. It hurt as her transformation had, but now, no glamour could hide her pain…

* * *

Evan stumbled through the trees, coughing raggedly, desperately fighting the inner beast. It clawed at his soul, scrambling for air, but he fought it with a bitter passion. Bile rose in his throat, he swallowed it down. A feral growl escaped him, a desperate, angry sound. He slammed his fists into a nearby tree, fresh claws dragging through the bark as he continued on.

But soon, he felt the fiery pain against his skin, and with a howl, the beast overcame him. Evan fell to the ground and clawed hopelessly at it as his body contorted and transformed. Bones rearranged, skin fell for new, hair sprouted…

Soon he was a beast. Raggedly breaths ached out of his system, and the chill touched its mellow accent. The newly formed werewolf wined as it lay weak in the snow, in a pool of hair, skin, and blood. Wearily he rose, trotting with a lopsided gate. He growled at the slightest sound, his head jerked from side to side to catch every movement. His senses lured him to a gap between the trees, and beyond… _the world_.

He sat between the trees, whining. He wanted to run, but he was afraid. Afraid from what he did not know, but something within held him back. With a growl he turned and began darting through the woods, on a rampage of frenzied energy.

Suddenly, the smell of a new animal reached him. Stopping, he sniffed the ground, coming upon footsteps. He followed them; saw where the owner had fallen, and then, a pile of hair. He sniffed the cluster, and smelt the earth after a rain. The only thing was, the ground was dry, laden with snow.

Snorting and shaking his coat, he trudged on. The scent was closer now, stronger, and he wanted it. It was familiar, and his feral side was anxious. He eventually came upon a clearing, but hid beneath the low hanging branches of bushy, small tree.

There in the clearing was a fox, black and grey with startling amber eyes. By the scent, it was female, and weak. She was looking around the clearing, on edge as she knew that there was someone new in her midst.

Rolling his shoulders and buckling down, he readied to strike…

The fox's round eyes fell on him them, as if she knew he was there, though under the cover of green, darkness, and snow.

But, the moon _was_ out...

* * *

Morgan was running about with Amos at her side, searching for her son. While everyone fretted over Sabet and the party, she paid that no mind. She ran outside when the moon caught her eye. She could not suppress a wailing moan, and Amos had to catch her from falling to her knees.

"He hasn't finished the potion!" Morgan wailed, then, in her native tongue, she cried out to her son; "_Oh mon fils! Pourquoi vous ne rentrerez pas_?" oh my son! Why won't you come home to me?

And she called out his name again.

* * *

The vixen let out a soft little coo-like bark, soft, melodic. He perked his ears up, rising form his cover, though his lips curled into a growl, bearing yellowed fangs. Slowly, he stalked out into the clearing.

He outsized the fox, easily weighing four times as much as she did. She was small and lean for one of her kind, not yet fully grown. But then, neither was he. Still a pup, no, adolescent.

Still alpha male though in his own pack. Which meant he was also the lowest of the pack. He shook his head, no sense thinking so much.

They began to circle each other, eyes locked on the other animal. Most foxes he came across he killed, as was his nature. So why not this vixen? Her glittering eyes stirred the warm heat inside him, made his ferocity nothing, and rendered him a simple wolf confused and unsure. He was alone, after all. And even though she was just a fox, she was intimidating, mysterious. He didn't know how to handle her.

Within, Evan cried out in desperation. He knew, _he knew_!

With a sudden breeze her scent filled his senses, soft after-rain earth. He stopped, and she stopped. _Now or never_. He buckled down and growled ominously, then, lunged.

The clearing was not large; he did not need a lot to cross it. But he stopped in an empty space. Turning he saw the vixen in his prior spot. Angry, he charged again, and she rushed into the wood, and he was quick to follow. She was lithe and darted about. He followed as best he could.

The continued on for what seemed hours. He would catch up to her, she would dart off. Once, she hid and he had to find her. It became a game. Sometimes he would here the humans shouting out, calling names, but he paid them no mind. He had to catch the vixen.

He _HAD_ to.

* * *

Amos had begged Morgan to stay at the castle while he and Faust gathered four others to search for Evan, and Aideen. The girl's absence had not been ignored, and they feared Evan might have harmed her in his feral state. Now, Amos and Faust walked together, torches lit, silver chains tight in their hands. Though they carried wands, the chains were enchanted. They would not kill the werewolf, no, but they would render him harmless enough to bring back to the manor.

Amos grumbled as they trudged through the forest; "This is senseless," he said; "We should be back at the castle…"

"Morste is a grown man and will be fine," Faust said quietly; "Besides, the elf-child is here somewhere…"

"Oh, she is no elf," Amos said, then after a time, quietly;"Is she?"

Faust shrugged; "Morste seems to think so," he said; "_I_ seem to think so. You know, it is ironically humorous that our once peaceful, unknown haven has become overrun with fugitives and miscreants," he chuckled dryly; "I'm surprised that death eaters have not shown up on our doorstep by now."

"Well, knock on wood that they do not," Amos said; "Wait, what is that?"

They both froze, torches going out with gentle whispers. In the darkness, they could hear frenzied steps. Alone, and human. Their owner burst through the forest, nearing them.

"No one can Apparate here," Faust muttered under his breath; "They're nervous."

Amos drew his wand, aiming at the general direction of the stranger; "_faça-os imóvel_!" he shouted, a wisp of light shooting from the tip of the wand.

There came a shout and Amos was quick to follow his spell, Faust close behind .Amos found a man lying facedown in the snow, and he rolled him over with the tip of his boot. The man glared up at him, wand clutched in one hand. Amos frowned.

Faust came up to the scene, wand at he ready; "Who are you?" he asked, danger laced bluntly in his tone.

The wizard was quiet; "Answer!" Amos said, kicking him.

The wizard groaned, coughing; "My name is Rodger Edinburgh!" he said loudly.

Faust in turn frowned; "Rodger Edinburgh?" he repeated skeptically; "Thought of you as dead. What, now you're trailing coats of ministry officials?"

"Lot more than I can say of you!" Edinburgh ground out; "Messing around with _this_ lot."

Faust bent down and became dangerously close, so close the Edinburgh wanted to be sucked into the earth; "I am with _this_ lot," Faust hissed, suddenly standing again in a blur of motion; "Who sent you Rodger?" he asked, aiming his wand.

Edinburgh pursed his lips in silence. Amos glanced at Faust, processing what had just transpired; "I know who sent him," he said; "The Minister, am I right? He sent you to keep an eye on Ellis Vander."

Edinburgh did not speak, though surprise hinted at how his mouth had twitched. Faust stared at him undauntedly; "_sono_," he muttered, waving his wand.

Edinburgh did as he was bidden, his eyes closing and chest falling rhythmically to implied breaths. Faust then waved his wand again and levitated the wizard, looking at Amos.

"We'll put him in a cell, until the Council can be gathered;" he explained.

Amos nodded; "How do you know him?" he asked.

Faust looked down in shame; "He's one of us, Amos," he said finally, looking at his companion; "No one knows but I, who confronted him nearly thirty years ago."

Amos' eyes widened in surprise; "How does he keep it hidden?" he asked.

"I'm sure he doesn't," Faust said; "He looks no different then last when I saw him," he paused; "Hurry, we need to get back. The others can find Evan and the elf-child."

* * *

Faster, faster, run run run! Hurry hurry getting closer…

He skirted around a shrub, knocking snow down off its limbs, but he didn't care. The grey blur was in sight now, getting closer. Darting here, darting there, hurry, _hurry_! He urged himself, crazed. The smell of hay and leveled earth began to permeate the air, he didn't care.

Fast, faster, hurry quick!

* * *

Harry and Draco sat side by side on a bed in the infirmary, steadily recovering from their being locked in time. They were quiet as both tuned in to the castle and its surroundings. The pressure of protective magic was suddenly gone, leaving the air oddly light and foreboding. At first it was worrisome to breathe, but nothing hung on the air but tension and chaos.

"We should go help," Draco muttered, breaking the silence.

"Not our fight," Harry said groggily; "'Sides, don't know what to do."

"We need to figure out what's going on!" Draco said; "I'm still confused as hell…"

"That's the gravity talking."

"_Gravi_-what?"

"Gravity. It's… damn never mind. I'll explain later," he got up and stretched languidly, pulling at his collar to unbutton it; "We need to check on Sabet."

Draco got up; "We _need_ to finish what we started…" he grumbled.

* * *

The Guests had all been calmed and escorted to leave, slowly filing out. Sirius had been helping a couple Floo out safely, but now, he resigned himself to checking on Remus. As he walked towards their shared room, he was bombarded by Damien Riggs. They collided and fell into the floor.

"Sorry, sorry!" Damien said as he helped Sirius up; "Oh, Sirius, thank Merlin I ran into you!"

"Why? What's wrong, is Harry—?" Sirius began, but Damien cut him off with a shake of his head.

"Evan's gone missing," Damien said; "He's been a fool and hasn't taken his potion, and now he's running ramped in the forest. Sirius, _Aideen_ is missing as well!"

"The girl Evan's _with_?" Sirius asked, and Damien nodded; "What do I need to do?"

"We need Remus," Damien said; "He's the only werewolf not incapacitated or incarcerated! He needs to go out and find Evan to calm him down, put him in his place!"

"Wait why not just let him run about as he should?" Sirius asked.

"Because he's no control over his wolf, Sirius," Damien said, no suddenly solemn; "We need a seasoned wolf to handle him, bring him down. He's foolhardy and stupid enough as a human, let alone as otherwise."

"What type is he?" Sirius asked.

"Um… Type Four," he said, then quicklyhe spit out facts;"He is more wolf than human, I fear. Fiercely loyal, serene unless threatened… He can change at any given time, but the full moon transformation is violent and he has next to no control during it. When during that time, he is no where close to his formal self."

Sirius nodded; "I'll get Remus," he said, then he began at a run to find the werewolf.

* * *

Moony lay curled up on a soft rug, watching the flickering fire before him. He rolled his shoulders experimentally, having just changed from man to wolf. Lucky for him, he had obtained Wolfsbane Potion. Now, all he had to do was wait out the evening. At least he was capable of human thoughts.

There came a scratching at the door, and Moony's ears perked up as he looked over with interest. He rose and walked over, sniffing the ground. The door was then opened, and he saw Padfoot standing in the hallway, tail swishing back and forth slowly, and Moony knew something was amiss.

Padfoot barked at him, sharp and demanding. He then ran off, and Moony was quick to follow. Padfoot led him outside to the garden, where Damien was waiting by an open gate. He bid them safe passage, and they ran off into the darkness of the forest. They could hear people shouting and hollering throughout the expanse of trees.

Moony caught the scent of a young werewolf, and was instantly on guard. He growled lowly, causing Padfoot to stop and look at him expectantly. Moony could sense things he could not. They went to a clearing, and there were the first signs of a scuffle. Picking up the scent of a vixen, Padfoot shot after it, Moony following the trail of the adolescent. They reenacted the fight, each following their respected trails. Finally, it led them to a paddock.

Padfoot saw the vixen as she darted into a stall, and then the werewolf came from around the paddock's fencing. Moony came out of the woods, emitting a loud howl. The pup stumbled and froze, seeing Moony and Padfoot. He growled then, and arching his head back, howled. It was haunting, boastful, and powerful.

Moony stalked over while Padfoot darted around to find the vixen. He came around and cautiously peeked into the stall, seeing that the vixen was hiding beneath the wings of a young dragon. The dragon looked at Padfoot with her large, piercing eyes, and let out a low, humming sort of growl.

Padfoot saw that the vixen was injured, three claw marks racing down her back from shoulder to flank. They bled steadily, and Padfoot wined as he walked into the stall, keeping his tail between his legs and head bowed.

Moony and the pup began to circle each other. All there was for a time was their growls and the snapping of jowls, the grating of teeth. Then, Moony felt his mind being invaded. At first, the thoughts were frantic, desperate, but they receded into something far more hostile.

**WHO ARE YOU!**

Moony knew it could not be the boy trapped in the werewolf's body. He growled out his name in the language he had picked up while undercover for the Order. The Werewolf pup slowed in his pacing, though he did not relent.

**I am Ferus.** The pup said, stopping all together.

Moony stopped as well. They stared at one another. Ferus had his ears back, lips curled up as he growled, ivory teeth catching the moonlight. Ferus rolled his shoulders, got down in a crouch, and Moony knew what was coming. The adolescent leapt and Moony did as well, meeting half-way, in the air. They fell and the scuffle began. Teeth, claws, kicking, lashing out, it was all undomesticated and feral. Moony resorted to letting go of logic, and simply acting out on impulse.

Padfoot needed to get the vixen back to the castle. But as he edged too close, the dragon growled apprehensively, tail whipping out to strike Padfoot's back leg. He yelped and retreated somewhat, glancing outside as he heard the two werewolves engage in combat. He fought between saving the vixen, or running to his companion's side. But Moony was a capable being; the vixen on the other hand was not.

Padfoot whined, looking at the vixen. She looked at him, letting out a little bark through her gasps. She staggered as she walked over, the dragon apprehensive about letting her go. Padfoot darted forward, and took the vixen by the scruff of the neck in his jaws. He ran out just as the dragon roared in anger and arched up. As he ran, he felt his tail singed with fire.

Moony was tired. Ferus was more agile than he, even in his current state. He also had the advantage of having arms, even though they were hairy and disfigured. Twice he had picked Moony up and thrown him several feet.

But Ferus too ka moment to stop as Padfoot had lured the dragon from her stall. She came out and roared, intent on chasing after the hound, but stopped when she saw Ferus. Moony watched as the dragon shot a jet of fire at Ferus, who narrowly avoided being burnt to crisp. The werewolf howled and lunged boldly for the dragon, latching on to her side and clawing at the hard scales. The dragon wriggled and threw him off, and pinned him down with one massive front foot, toes splayed out with claws dangerously pricking Ferus' chest.

Moony got up and howled a low crooning sound. The dragon's head jerked over and she seemed to glare at him for interrupting. Moony padded over, surprised she allowed him to get so close. Ferus struggled and growled and kicked as he tried to escape, but it only amused the dragon as she pressed down harder. With a sharp exhale, Ferus whined, and resigned himself to be still.

Soon, there were wizards surrounding the paddock. Ferus was stunned, The dragon placed back in her stall, and Moony was free to go back to the castle. Damien Riggs walked with him, talking to him in a blur of excitement and adrenaline.

* * *

Padfoot bounded through the castle, startling many that he bore a fox in his mouth. But he paid them no mind, Rushing around, trying to find the infirmary. He came across Harry and Draco.

"Padfoot!" Harry exclaimed, "What the hell…?" he had seen the vixen.

"Here, let me take her," Draco said, and Padfoot obliged. Draco cradled the fox, awash with pity. "This is Aideen, isn't it?" he asked upon meeting eyes with the animal.

Padfoot nodded, and then bounded off. "Let's go back to the infirmary, then," Harry said with a sigh.

* * *

He wanted to stay asleep, to remain in a peaceful jaded state. But no, his eyes dared to crack open. He was laying in his bed, tucked under the covers, limbs tingling from their lack of movement. He looked around, finding himself in company of his dearest and most trusted. Morgan, Amos, Adam, Harry, Draco, Faust, and the other members of the Council, they were all around his bed, sitting or standing, having been waiting for him to awaken.

"What… what time is it?" Sabet asked hoarsely.

"Three-Thirty," Draco replied softly.

Sabet looked out the nearest window. Indeed, it was; "How… how long have I been..."

"Not long," Morgan said; "It's just the morrow."

Sabet nodded, and sighed; "And… Vander?"

"Dead," Amos said; "We've got his body… we don't know what to do with it just yet…"

"Aideen? Evan?"

"Both recovering," Adam said.

Sabet nodded; "The castle… the wards…"

"Taken care of," Faust said; "Morste, we did not know of the strain you were under. If you had only spoken to one of us, we would have helped you carry your burdens."

Sabet sighed; "Thank you, I realize this too late," he coughed; "But I have come to many conclusions, all of which you all must know…"

"I thought of many things, while I was asleep," Sabet began; "And I have realized that there has been made a terrible wrong. I have established a haven, but one that only hinders, it does not save…"

"But sir…" Harry began.

"Shh, let me finish," Sabet sighed; "Our Kind is poorly represented. We are still seen as the monsters of lore. I do not want that image. For a time my… campaign was to destroy it, but I have only succeeded in scaring one old man into granting me passage into the world, no one else. I have failed so many, and I know that none of my apologies could ever fix what has been done.

"I have decided that, In May, I will face the Wizengamot. I will go as proper representation. I will show them our structured society, no bridled by their own, but still in accordance.

"But I will not go alone. That would be poor on my part, and besides, I am a wanted man to the Ministry. They would no more listen to me than the dementor would hesitate to kiss me… "

Harry shuddered in voluntarily. "I'll go," Draco said confidently.

"As will I," Faust said. Several others voiced their agreement.

Sabet looked around at them all, nodding. Then, his eyes fell solely on Draco; "I will not ask nor tell you, Draco, to accompany us on this endeavor. You are best suited for your school, where you stand a chance," he straightened up, and looked at the group as a whole again; "This endeavor that I speak of is risking, and not just to those who choose to go. This endangers everything."

Morgan stood up then, face flushed a tangent pink. She glared at Sabet, and said; "You speak to us as if we're oblivious!" Sabet's eyes widened slightly, as much has they could in their hooded state; "Well let me tell you something, Morste, we are _far_ from _ignorant_."

Sabet did not seem abashed by her outburst. "I can see where you would gather this," he said with a plaintive sigh; "There is much that you do not know, Morgan. So much that none of you know," he paused.

Harry was growing tense. Draco was tense beside him as well. The room had suddenly become very crowded, the air thick.

Sabet was sure he would pay for the words he said next; "I have been in company with The Dark Lord."

Gasps. That's all there was. Gasps. Draco leapt out of his chair and screamed; "You _bastard_!" without shame, glaring heatedly at the vampire. Harry and Faust had to sit him back down.

"Why?" Amos asked his voice steady and calm, a contradiction to his emotions.

Sabet waited for the room to grow quiet; "Trying to keep our kind out of the war," he explained; "Not just vampires. Werewolves, banshees, ogres, elves… _all_ of us. Also, I have spoken to Albus Dumbledore, and I intend on speaking to Arthur Weasley before the next new moon."

"And what, have them all get together for tea?" Damien asked skeptically; "You'd have better luck getting Buddha, Mohamed, _and_ Jesus Christ to do that."

He was not joking, either. Harry knew that Sabet was an advocate for peace, and tolerance. Sometimes he was just too naive; "He's right, Sir," Harry said; "Besides, the prophecy…" his voice trailed off. They did not know.

Sabet looked at him, questioning. Sighing, Harry briefly filled everyone in on what had transpired in the Department of Mystery. When he was threw, he continued; "So you see, even if you reached peace, _I_ would still be at war, if not a personal one at that."

"Harry…" Faust began, and then he stopped. He seemed stuck on words, but he quickly found new ones; "This prophecy… is it authentic?"

Harry nodded; "As far as I know."

Faust nodded, looking down in thought, solemn. "This is a travesty," he said, looking up; "Morste, we cannot stay excluded from this war. We have never _truly_ been. Now, as I speak, The Dark Lord is rallying our kind to fight against the ministry, and against us. And it's become painfully obvious that this war has no age limit…"

Sabet nodded; "You all feel strongly about this, our involvement?" Nods were his reply; "Then when we confront the Ministry, what shall we propose?"

"Amnesty," Adam said boldly; "Freedom to be open."

"There will be rioting," Amos said; "They will hunt us like beasts."

"Aye, try to ban us from enteracting!" Damien said; "We'll be forced into the darkness so fast you would blink and miss it!"

"But this will pass, like all things!" Faust said; "If not now, will we leave it up to Draco and Harry? Or to their children? NO! We shall take care of this now, for we will be held responsible, regardless."

"So it's agreed?" Sabet asked. Nods once more. He sighed; "Then who am I to stop you? We will go."

"Um, slight transition," Amos said; "Faust and I came across a Ministry official, and he is incarcerated and stunned at the moment. But… what shall we do with him?"

"Send him back with Vander," Draco said, a malicious glint in his eye; "Show Weasley what's what. It will show him not tobother us again."

"Perhaps," Sabet said; "But… we should question him first."

Amos nodded; "What of Evan?" Morgan asked, suddenly tentative.

There was silence; "He did not have control of his actions," Sabet said; "Yes, it was foolish of him not to take his potion. But these things will happen. He is a teenager, prone to reckless abandon. Therefore, if there was a need, he is forgiven."

"And… and Aideen? She was literally _mauled_…"

Adam nodded; "She will have scars," he said; "But, I think she knew what she was doing, leading him to the paddocks."

"Sirius said he gave Remus a fight," Harry said.

"Evan's strong," Morgan said with a hint of pride.

"AS he should be," Sabet said; "We must make changes, everyone. Drastic Changes to prepare us for the years to come."

"What makes you think in years, Morste?" Faust asked.

"The future is never long-awaited," Sabet replied; "And, this will not end in a day. Now is our time. Ours."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/n: well, review? Of course. I'll have this story finished up soon. Not to worry, I'm sure there will be a sequel. Maybe… if people review. 


	30. Nudge in a Direction

**A/N: extra long for some reason... enjoy!**

Nothing to report. Here's the chapter

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!

**------30------**

Recovery is a bitter process, Draco remembered Adam saying. Now, he sat in Aideen's private rooms, playing whist, a traditional card game he had not played since his childhood. Aideen's torso had been bandaged, as well as her shoulder, and often she had to go shirtless. Spells had only healed her muscle, and too much magic would have drained her of energy. So, Adam had decided to heal her mostly by a Muggle fashion: Gauze and cloth. She did not complain, but the gauze was cold and bitter against her wounds. She was strong, not complaining. Draco admired her strength and zeal.

And he pitied her.

Evan had become quiet and reserved, guilt-ridden. Aideen was still recovering, with three new notches to her canvas of flesh. Though they stayed together, they were apart. Draco would often spend time with Aideen talking of social things, while Harry and Evan would spar.

Sabet had been asleep when the Harry and Draco had departed. Nothing more was expected of the vampire. Adam had said he would be out for weeks recovering. The strain of upholding wards for decades had finally brought him down. Faust had mentioned he was in charge of windows alone, and it left him with a migraine at the end of each day. Draco did not want to fathom how much magic was needed for the Haven, let alone for Hogwarts. This made him respect Dumbledore just a little more, not a lot, but a tad.

When they reached the school, Harry and Draco set about to prepare for the upcoming meeting of the unnamed organization, a meeting they had yet to call. Realizing their race's fragile state had borne some new fire in the two, one which they were intent to bring to life as a blazing fire. They spent hours in the library, and Harry found himself remembering Hermione's advice as he took notes and searched for specific texts.

Now, they sat in the newly arranged Room of Requirement, sitting by the fire on a love seat, both having specially made wine in pristine glasses. Harry found that though the wine was soothing, his growing and veracious appetite was still not sated. He kept this misfortune to himself, hoping it would pass. Now, he stared at his lover, listening as Draco spoke of the future, but only half listening as he pondered about his cravings.

"We'll need to establish our own Order, you know," Draco began, solemnly, finger gliding around the rim of his glass; "There are just too many sects, too many groups trying to drag us with them. Why not form our own? One for our generation, by our generation, of our own means, if not only for ourselves and our futures? I can find many flaws for this plan, but what plan is without fault?"

Harry nodded; "It sounds reasonable, love," he said; "Problem is, we would have to pledge loyalty to someone, something. And even though we may pledge to our race, what could we tell those who joined us? I think we should just build from the organization…"

"Exactly!" Draco said with a wicked grin; "Harry, take it from someone who has seen what happens when someone is forced into something: it doesn't work. By working from this little defense group, we already have people willing to join us."

"I don't want followers, Draco," Harry said with a sigh.

"Well why not?" Draco asked, genuinely curious; "I mean, that _is_ what makes a leader _a leader_. It is by his _followers_."

Harry shook his head; "No," he said firmly; "Draco, I'm already on a high enough pedestal. And though the thought of having a circle of loyal comrades willing to listen to me is tempting, I can't accept it."

Draco pursed his lips; "Like it or not Harry, that is how things are for you," he said lowly; "That's how they will always be, I fear."

Harry resigned himself to look down, at his unfinished wine, rolling the glass with his wrist to swish the contents around rhythmically. Though it was a merely vibrant maroon mixture, he saw far much more. He imagined the coming months the hardship and trials. He thought of Draco being at his side and taking lead when he could not, something he had been doing more and more as of late. He also saw their allies, some old, some young, some ageless.

He then, for some reason, thought of his former housemates. Of Ron, of Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville… all of them. He would never find it in himself to forgive Ron, or Hermione. Yet he found himself missing the carefree nature of their company. They had always been thoughtful of him, but of their own, less stressful lives. Draco had his own matters, as did Pansy and Blaise. At times Harry found his hands empty with nothing to be done, while he watched the Slytherins bustle about in their aristocracy and melodramatics. He had done a great deal of thinking.

"I think I made a mistake," Harry murmured.

"How so, Harry?" Draco asked, attune to the sudden change in the air.

Harry looked at him; "We need them, Draco," he said; "The Gryffindors. All the people I left behind. We will need them."

Draco frowned; "Why?" he asked, sitting back; "They're naught but bumbling tricksters, Harry. Naught can come from them but another broken promise! You yourself know this to be true."

"Yes, but Draco, this war will be greater than even _our_ reckoning!" Harry said; "It would be too detrimental to hold grudges at this point!"

"Harry, who is to say they aren't running to Dumbledore and telling him what goes on during our meetings?" Draco asked.

"They can't," Harry said; "Hermione cast a spell, a charm, so that no one may speak of our proceedings with someone who is not already to privy to the knowledge! I've seen the results of speaking out about it!" he finished with a heaving sigh; "Draco, now is the time for House Unity. I think… I think I will apologize…" he suddenly grew quiet, eyes growing as wide as Draco's.

"You will not apologize," Draco said heatedly, frowning again; "No, I forbid you. Harry, I understand you're evident walk to Martyrdom, but for god's sakes don't ever apologize to the wrong people!" His voice hitched, the subject touching something sensitive.

Harry's gaze softened, he reached out, but Draco shied away, rising. He set his glass down forcefully on an end table, and then walked over to lean against the mantle of the fireplace, fire dancing in his silver eyes. Harry was quiet as he assessed the situation.

"Draco," Harry said quietly, but Draco only shook his head.

"Nothing but mockery shall come from that, Harry," Draco said dully, but at the same time wisely; "You are a leader. Leaders apologize to no one."

"They apologize to the subjects whom they would die for," Harry said stiffly; "Draco, who do you want me to be? What do you want me to do? How have I angered you so badly so quickly?" he steadily rose, glass drifting off to sit by Draco's.

Draco did not stop the embrace that followed, burying his head in the crook of Harry's neck, and breathing in the indefinable scent. "Do not apologize," he said firmly; "Never regret what you do, Harry. _Never_. Apologizing just shows that you do," he looked up at Harry; "I know you are too proud. You would only hate yourself for doing such a thing. Besides," he shrugged; "How do you think I feel about it?"

Harry craned his head back to laugh. He then kissed Draco, a warm, tender kiss unlike their usual exchanges. Draco was taken about for a moment. He sensed the lust, as was always present with Harry, but also such a tenderness that could render anyone moved. Harry embraced him then, and there were no need for words to explain.

* * *

Another week passed, with no incident. The rest of the student body was to return on the following Sunday, two days away. Harry had taken a fascination with watching things. With no mass of bodies, the castle was different. Being able to see it vacant during the daytime was something of wonder, he had never felt such pride for coming than when he saw the entrance hall and the stain glass gleaming in the early morning sun.

It was here he sat, on the steps, reading. Draco had gone to the library again, but Harry could no longer stand the stuffy establishment. He flipped through the charms book idly. One he had nipped from the Restricted Section, it was useful to some degree, but nothing worth a celebration.

When the large double doors opened, Harry's' head snapped up and the book snapped shut. He watched as McGonagall and Snape helped Dumbledore in. The old man finally looked his untold age. He was tired, with bags under his eyes, and his one hand seemed burnt, disfigured. Harry rose at this, habitual concern rising up in him. He went unnoticed by his predecessors, who escorted Dumbledore into the great hall, where Harry knew was a back room that could quiet possibly link to the Headmaster's office.

He literally flew down to his chambers, putting the book away before hurrying back up to the surface. Soon, he found himself whisked to Dumbledore's chambers. He thought for a moment, and then said the password. The gargoyle almost seemed to nod before it turned away, revealing a staircase. Harry rode it impatiently, desperate to know the goings-on of the Order.

When he came upon the door, he became dead quiet. He contented with pressing his keen ear against the door, his hearing impervious to charms, and listened in.

"…Must stop this nonsense," it was Snape; "Albus, you will kill yourself."

A sigh; "I know this, Severus," Albus replied; "But it must be done."

"Done? _Done_!" McGonagall; "Albus, look at your hand! You are dabbling in things even Severus would not dare touch!"

"Hey now I resent that!" Snape exclaimed, and the two began bickering.

"**Enough**!" Albus shouted after a time, anger evident; "As you see, I have returned in one piece, be it as it may that my hand is a little harmed. That is of no countenance to the greater scheme of things."

"Albus," McGonagall now sounded so sincere, so concerned; "These Horcruxes that you… that you're finding… Don't you think that once you come into contact with them that… that _You-Know-Who's_ aura could be transferred to your being?"

Albus laughed then, a dry, amused laugh, tired as he was; "No, Minerva, that will never happen," he explained; "A Horcrux has only one purpose: to keep a person _alive_ even if they should die. It is a piece of the soul locked away in an object of importance to the spell caster. It's very complicated, and what little soul is transferred would not be wasted by passing on to the next person it comes into contact with. If that were the case, I fear this ring would not be harming me so…" his voice trailed off with what sounded of worry.

"We'll let you rest, then," Snape said shortly; "If you need anything, alert one of us."

Harry jumped away from the door, and tried to hide. He would not escape down the stairwell, they would find the door open and the search would be on. He saw a window, and ran for it. Wrenching it open, he climbed out and slammed it closed, flying out and hovering below the ledge, waiting. He heard the door open, Snape and McGonagall exchanged a few unsavory words, and then, all was quiet.

Harry decided to fly around for a bit, high enough to pass detection, close enough to see the world. He had a lot more thinking to do.

* * *

Draco had stumbled upon something dramatic, something that would shift the balance of power. He had snuck into the restricted section and had spent a good hour of snooping and lurking, finding this and finding that. But he had come across a text that could quite possibly give them the greatest advantage ever.

_Objet D'art: What You Would or Wouldn't Want to Come Across or Create_

The author was of no countenance, Draco had torn the book open in frenzy, knowing the book held a great importance within its dragon hide cover and binding. He flipped through countless sections, the book being as thick as he was broad in the shoulders. Most of the sections were broken down descriptions of various Egyptian artifacts. But there was the last part of the book, barely two hundred pages, devoted solely to Europe and its own eccentricities.

And that's where he stopped. Draco did not know why, but something buzzing in the back of his head grew steadily worse whenever he read the title of the section.

_Dark Artifacts and How to Come About Them… _

Repetitious, he would admit, but tantalizing none the less. He read the introduction, eyes eating up the words, setting down against a shelf. He conjured a cushion from thin air, and sighed as he readied himself for a good, if not helpful, read. He read for some time before coming across an alien word.

_Horcrux_.

Try saying that five times fast, Draco thought with a snicker, but his innocent mirth faded quickly as he sobered. He read on, his heart sinking lower and lower. Slowly, pieces began forming in his mind. It explained Voldemort's at first weakened state, his appearance. Dumbledore's foolhardy disappearances were also explained. Voldemort was quite possibly the only wizard who had created them, and obviously, successfully. Dumbledore was searching for them.

But how many were there?

Having being in company with the Dark Lord on several occasions, and having listened in to many a meeting, Draco began to calculate. Voldemort had an unhealthy interest in all things occult and religious. He dabbled mostly in the occult, and of course, Dark Magic. He had seven secret hideaways, seven Death Eaters he considered Advisors, Seven wands he kept hidden in case, heaven forbid, his main one be broken in battle. He had been back for almost seven years…

Draco groaned as he leaned his head back; "Seven!" he breathed.

Suddenly, he heard a chair shriek as it was dragged back against the wooden floor, and soon the harsh tip-tapping of boots began heading his way. Closing and shrinking the book, Draco disposed of his cushion. He then headed for a window. Breaking it open, he jumped out, freefalling before arching up and flying straight into the sun's light, obscuring his shape, knowing Madame Pince would be shaking her fist and crying out obscenities at nothing. He then turned, arcing back to head for the lake, where he would land and finish reading the book.

* * *

Harry and Draco saw naught of each other until dinner, where they chose to stay quiet, relaying information mentally. Harry was full of admiration at Draco's impressive genius, and Draco smugly indulged in it for a time. Then they began talking openly about upcoming Quidditch, and how the season was going.

Then they both sensed a new magical trace, full of grief, accompanied by two older ones equally forlorn. Draco and Harry got up and rushed for the front doors, getting there as they opened. Hermione came in with aid of Tonks, who was holding her by the arm gently. Behind them, Kingsley, who was grimly carrying suitcases.

"Hermione!" Harry breathed, forgetting everything as he ran to the girl.

Hermione looked up at him, and he was taken aback. There was a long cut down her face, having just scabbed over. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, bags under her eyes from stress and fatigue. She was disheveled, her hair pulled up in an attempt at a bun. He saw how her hands shook, tightly holding onto her wand, which she clutched at her chest.

"Hermione, what…" Harry's voice trailed off.

Hermione let out a sob and left Tonks, embracing Harry and continuing to cry. Taken aback, Harry was slow to return the embrace. He looked at Tonks and Kingsley for information. But Kingsley just set the suitcases down before accompanying Tonks to a waiting McGonagall.

Draco approached, unsure of his purpose for the matter. Inwardly he chastised Harry, but he had changed so much since the Incident at the Castle that Draco wondered if the spell had done something to him. He watched as Harry held his former friend, rubbing her back, silent, stoically the hero.

Draco walked over, and gently placed his hand on Hermione's shaking shoulder. Harry looked at him, pleading, and mentally asking to take her to their chambers, so she would not spend the night alone with two third year Gryffindors. Draco nodded.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said gently, pulling her away to look at her; "Let's go talk, eh?"

Hermione nodded, a small smile on her lips; "Thank-you," she whispered.

* * *

Her hands still shook as she fought to level the cup with her lips. A small tray of chocolate sat in front of her, though she had yet to touch it. Harry and Draco waited for her to calm, Harry sitting by her while Draco took to standing by the mantle of the fire place .Their din was oddly stuffy, full of air thick to breathe in.

"What happened?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione set her cup down with a clank on its little accompanying plate. She wiped her eyes; "My… my parents," she said, hiccupping; "They're… they're dead, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened, and Hermione nodded, for a time worrying her bottom lip; "I… I was getting ready to leave for home… And… and Tonks offered to give me a ride," she paused; "We had just gotten down the street, and then… we both felt this foreboding wave of… of something. We hurried back, but when we got there… _nothing_, there was _nothing_…" she rambled off, voice failing her.

"Shh, take your time," Draco said soothingly, though he did not leave his spot by the fire. Harry gave him a thankful look, and then conjured a handkerchief for Hermione to blow her nose with, which she did. She soon got over another onslaught of tears, and tried to compose herself.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," Harry said, hand over hers; "Tell me, do you know who did this?"

Hermione looked away, "There was the mark…" she whispered, looking up; "Above… above what was left!" her voice hitched and she covered her face with her hands.

Harry embraced her, and to his surprise, Draco came over and did the same. "I'm so sorry, Harry!" Hermione wailed; "For everything, everything! Please, forgive me! Please, please I'd do anything, just please forgive me!"

"Shh, shh," Harry said, heart strings pulled taut. He glanced at Draco, who seemed unsure of how to handle the situation. He seemed sympathetic of Hermione, even though Harry knew for a fact he did not like the idea of magical blood mixing with the non, here he was.

"You're safe, though," Draco offered, "Hermione, there was a reason. Like there is a reason for everything…"

Hermione whipped around and glared at him; "You know nothing of reasoning!" she accused, "Nothing! You might be a Death Eater's son, you might be bonded to Harry, Hell, you might be a _vampire_, but that does not give you room to say that there was a REASON behind this!"

Harry and Draco stared at her. She stared boldly back from one to the other; "Yes, I _knew_, I've _known_," then she laughed a pitiful fake laugh; "How dare you doubt me, Harry! How dare you…" she leaned back into the sofa, overcome. Then, she was solemn once more; "Nothing was left," she mumbled; "Not even bodies for a proper burial… _Nothing_…" she was quiet, and then she fixed her ghostly gaze on Harry.

"They're picking off the parents of '_mudbloods'_, Harry. Seamus' parents have gone into hiding because of it."

Draco abruptly rose, heading for the small study. Harry was tempted to follow, but stayed as Hermione began to cry again. Draco inadvertently slammed the door shut, and cringed at its sound. Then shaking it off, he gathered up a quill, ink, and paper, and sat down at the desk. A candle flared to life, and he began to write.

* * *

"Where's Ron in all this?" Harry asked Hermione quietly.

Hermione sniffed; "Well, where should he be?" she asked, "Oh Harry, we're not together," she said; "I'm with Viktor. Ron's with Lavender…"

"Oh," Harry said. "I didn't know," he said, fumbling; "You'll stay here for the night. I can try to make this couch a bed, though I've never tried…"

"I'll do it the Muggle way, Harry," Hermione said with a small laugh; "Thank-you."

"For what?" Harry asked.

"For… for helping me," she said; "And for letting us be friends again."

Harry made an attempt at a small smile; "Hermione, I did a hell of a lot of thinking," he said; "And… I will never fully get over what you and Ron… did. But I realize that, in the coming times, I would have to set aside that anger. And, seeing you now… I knew I should have done it sooner."

Hermione sniffed, and smiled; "By God, you can be a man!" she said, and they shared a laugh.

* * *

Draco heard the laughter and rolled his eyes as he continued writing, having pulled out his thick text from before. He jotted down this and that on the parchment, particularly the aspects he failed to grasp.

Draco finished his random act of writing, and put his things away. He sat at the desk, merely staring at its cluttered surface. He could hear Harry and Hermione catching up. It was good that he talk to her again, Draco wagered. Though he had found Hermione annoying in the past, over the few months he'd come into contact with her had changed his perspective.

She was still a Know-It-All Bitch, though.

But she was an ally, one they would need. She was smart, and analytical. That would come in handy. Draco figured that if Harry was not keen to use his masses, he would. Their "Order" would need structure, and Draco would build that structure. He acquired new parchment, beginning to list the current members, all he had memorized, as was his nature.

There came a tapping on the window, and Draco was drawn from his work. He frowned when he saw a raven waiting patiently outside; Oswarae. He thought of letting him sit outside all night, but knew Harry would become upset. So, he rose with a sigh and went to open the window.

When he did, Oswarae just stared at him. /Master be planning/ his voice cawed in Draco's head.

"So since when am I master?" Draco asked curtly.

Oswarae chose not to answer and hopped onto Draco's shoulder. /Oswarae be getting many extra treats for his news/ he said. /I know what the old wizard be doing/

"Ooh really now?" Draco asked, walking over to the desk. Oswarae hopped onto it, nodding as Draco conjured a small plush cushion. "Do tell," Draco said.

Oswarae situated himself of the pillow, and then clicked his beak. /He go north, he go south/ he replied. /Looking first for teacup, and then, he find word about locket. Oswarae does not know about these things, but old wizard become very worried after tea cup/

"The Horcruxes," Draco whispered; "Oswarae, when did Dumbledore find out about the locket?"

/Dark place/ the raven replied grimly. /Dark, dark place Oswarae would not want to be/.

Draco nodded, worrying his bottom lip; "How did he look?" he asked after a time.

/His Age/ Oswarae replied.

Draco nodded grimly.

* * *

Hermione soon regained composure. After two days, Viktor came to visit her and the day she spent at Hogsmeade helped her greatly. She aided Draco and Harry in assembling the things they would need. Before they knew any better, school was back in session…

And it was Tuesday.

Hermione had talked with Ron, or tried. But the Redhead was stubborn. He still talked to her, and was friends with her, but could not let a grudge go. So, it was to be expected. He was the color of his hair. Seamus and Dean promised to help them. Ginny too, seemed to have accepted all that had transpired.

The Room of Requirement was ready. With books, playing fields, and ready students, Harry, Draco, Blaise, Pansy and Hermione stood at the head of the crowd, each the head of their own field. Harry was in control of wandless magic, Draco of Offence, Blaise with Dark Curses, Pansy of Defense, and Hermione of charms. Dean, Seamus, Ginny, and Cho were all to walk around and assist.

But before that, Harry thought he needed to explain the very meaning of War. So they all crowded around, Harry feeling much like a blunt coach talking to a rugby team.

"I hope everyone's holiday was wonderful," he began with a slight smile; "The rest was good. But over the holiday, I encountered something. Something grand and something that made me realize something greater. Every one of us know this war is in effect, that people are dying, and rules are being broken. Rights are being abused and things we once thought sacred have become ruin. People we know and care about have been harmed…" he paused; "But I must tell you all of my epiphany.

"We are the key to who wins this war. Yes, us. No longer can we be children. You think the Dark Lord has power?" he asked loudly, gaining confidence; "You think Dumbledore holds the cards? No! We do. And it's time we found out what we think is worth defending, worth dying for…" his voice trailed off; "And I believe it is this school."

"What!" Justin Flench-Fletchley asked.

"Yes, this very school," Harry said, pointing down at the floor; "Without it, how will our children learn? How will our future progress? I know for certain my children will go no where else. I might have some problems with this place, but it has served as a Haven more times than I can count. It can be the same thing should we need it in darker times."

He saw heads nodding, and murmurs of agreement filtered up. Draco cleared his voice; "My turn," he said with a sideways glance at Harry; "I received some unpleasant news from a source of mine earlier in the break…"

/What/ Harry projected to him.

/Just wait/ Draco replied.

"…And it makes me angry just as much as it makes me disheartened," Draco continued; "Death Eaters have begun to systematically sweep across Europe. Twice they have tried to attack Beauxbatons. They have caused Durmstrang to succeed to their 'campaign'. This is all hush-hush, mind you all," he stressed; "And they've begun to crawl on through Europe. I fear that, by spring, they will be encroaching on the shadow we cast here," he paused, letting it sink in; "Let me tell you what this means, because some of you seem very confused.

"More Death Eaters means the Dark Lord is gaining power.

"Dark Lords with power are terrible oppositions.

"Terrible Oppositions mean it's going to be very hard to win."

"The Dark Lord is amassing an army of Creatures, as well," Hermione said, standing stoically and gaining everyone's attention; "Ogres, giants, banshees, death eaters, werewolves, everything you can think of. This will not be the greatest battle ever to be brought upon our world."

Seamus abruptly rose, the focus turning to him. His face was flushed, he was scowling, anger beset in his words; "The Dark Lord's pickin' off the Muggle parents of witches and wizards," he said bluntly, looking around; "Mah parent's're 'idin' so they donna die. I know others are doin' tha same…" he paused, glancing at Hermione; "Some haven't been so lucky. I wilna stand fahr et. I won't!"

Dean ushered him to calm down, bringing him back to his side. Sympathy could be felt in the air for the young Irishmen, for every Gryffindor knew of how close Seamus was to his Muggle Father.

Harry nodded in affirmation, and then looked at the rapt crowd.

"This is War."

* * *

Meetings began to last long into the nights, and they ere moved to Saturday evenings. The students who came were adamant and everyone helped each other to succeed in whatever they were pursuing. As they began to delve deeper and deeper into a power they thought they did not possess, Harry soon realized that their organization was fast becoming a second-Order. He could not say he hated this, or that he condoned it. But still, he saw he was the untold leader of this brigade.

He hated _that_.

But he had to accept it. Draco had told him time and time again that he would trade places, and sometimes, he had. Harry could never express his gratitude, but Draco did not ask for any. He relished in the power, especially since most had accepted him and now merely viewed him as a figure of interest, not the "Ice Prince" of Hogwarts.

Now though, things had settled down. It was easily two in the morning of Sunday. Draco was in the living room, reading up on Dementors. The fire was crackling softly, Oswarae was asleep in his roost. No one had come to their door for help. No teacher had come down, or worse, the Headmaster himself.

But at that moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to for once be a generic face of a crowd. He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, knowing that would not be possible. He frowned as he stared at his forehead. Just once, he thought, I wish you could go away.

He heard the rhythmic pulse of his headache, the only pulse he was allowed. At the reminder of his blood, Harry was forced into reverie of the night before…

"_Now carefully, raise your wand…" Harry instructed, demonstrating the motion to the gaggle of Ravenclaws; "And then, flick—"_

_Harry, watch out!"_

_Whipping around, Harry saw a blue jet of light streak across his way. He felt a tingling in his back and in a flurry of ripped clothing and black feathers, the spell had been deflected._

_Harry was frozen, not daring to breathe. Now, he was incased in a comfortable darkness, plumage blocking out the cryptic light of the Room of Requirement. Around him, he could clearly hear the buzz of gossip, and the vibration of footsteps lingered around him. _

_Had he deflected the spell on instinct? _

_Slowly, Harry lowered his wings, peering out at the crowd that had gathered. He saw Draco though, only him, and the distressed look his eyes projected. Hermione made her way through then, stepping in front of Harry, her wand out ,and then, a simple erasing charm left her lips. By then, Harry's wings had vanished, his shirt repaired, and it was as if nothing had happened…_

He had been foolish, careless even, to let his guard down.

Harry sighed, wiping his face. Setting his hand down, they touched a pair of scissors. Harry stared down oddly, eyes focusing in on a fine blonde hair still caught between the blades. Draco had trimmed his hair. Harry picked up the scissors, and stared at his reflection. Though he had trimmed his hair in November, he decided that, since it was mid February, he was overdue. Nervously, he pulled a lock of hair, but stopped. He worried his bottom lip, unsure, and then looked back at the loo door.

"Draco? Can you come here?" he called.

Draco arrived not long after, and instantly took the scissors from Harry's hands; "Let me," he said slowly, "Sit on the counter."

Harry did as he was bidden, "Why do you want to cut your hair?" Draco asked.

Harry looked down; "I'm overdue…" he mumbled.

Draco chuckled; "Fine. Hold still. At least if I mess up, you're hairs so messy it won't matter."

"Hey! I take offense to that!"

Draco laughed again, then began trimming and snipping. He watched Harry's face contort from boredom to frustration; "What's on your mind?"

"Life," Harry said simply; "What did you get out of your read?"

"Well, seems that Dementors are really as horrible as we all imagined," Draco replied; "They are the only recorded things ever, in the existence of the world, to have the ability of destroying a soul. Completely."

Harry shivered; "And you wonder why I'm afraid of them?"

"Not now," Draco said with a grimace; "You know what other interesting fact I learned?"

"Do tell… Hey watch it, I need my ear!"

Draco laughed; "I like your ears too, you know," he said sensually, and then he sobered; "Dementors were once _men_."

Now Harry pulled back, shocked; "_What_?" he asked.

Draco nodded; "Some sick wizard works for the ministry, produces a batch of ten or so whenever they're needed. Dementors wear out. But anyway, yes. Most of them are fugitives, some Muggles some Wizards, all beasts in the end. It started out as an experiment to better understand the inner-workings of the soul, but all the sick fuck got out of it was a poor, decomposed being torn in half. All dementors know is to get their souls back. And they think that by sucking the souls of others, their souls will be put back to gether in the process."

"That's tragic," Harry said, for once pitying dementors. Then he started, not sure if what he thought was what he had. But yes, he did feel pity for them, if only just a small amount.

Draco nodded; "Yes. Anyway, that was the interesting fact I learned."

Harry looked down, "This war…" he whispered.

"Is hell to everyone."

* * *

**TBC**

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**a/n:** well all, another quick one! I had the idea and I had to put it into words. So yup! There ya go! Review for more!


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